Haunting Henry

''0 ITEMS ENDING - CAUGHT'' Henry's stare freezes you in place and he lets out a hard sigh. "You know the rules, Bud. Back to bed. We'll talk about this in the morning". You silently retreat into your room, a knot forming in your stomach. You are so busted. – Sitting down to breakfast the next day you brace yourself when you see the look on Henry's face, a combination of irritation and exhaustion. "I don't wanna have to do this, but your Mom was pretty clear about the rules before she left," the dark circles under Henry's eyes are more pronounced and the disappointment in his tone makes you want to crawl into a hole. "You're grounded, kiddo" – The punishment wasn't that bad, Henry was a notorious softy. But for the next few weeks you couldn't shake the feeling that Henry was watching you like a hawk. While you never did figure out why he was acting so weird that weekend, eventually life settled back into a mostly normal rhythm. Every once in a while you noticed that he would start disappearing into his office again, or you'd wake up to that slightly frantic shuffling sound in the hallway, but you chalked it up to more work stress. [[Story Intro]]

''0 ITEMS ENDING - SURVIVED'' You practically collapse into your bed that night, the collective fatigue of the past three nights landing on you like a ton of bricks. – Gentle shaking drags you unhappily into consciousness and you blink up as Henry's slightly concerned face. "Morning kiddo. You were konked out pretty hard, you feeling okay?". You manage a noncommittal noise in response and sit up, rubbing sleep from your eyes. "Breakfast is ready whenever you are, you gonna need coffee to get the engine going?" Henry ruffles your hair on his way out of your room and you groan, flopping back down into your bed. – Plopping yourself in front of your plate, you notice the circles under Henry's eyes have deepened and you silently hope that you don't look as rough. For the first time all weekend, Henry gives you what feels like a genuine smile. "I know I've been a bit...distracted lately. But I hope it wasn't too noticeable". You raise an eyebrow and he chuckles "Yeah, I figured as much. What'd you say to a movie night?" You continue to stare, fighting off a smile of your own. "Movie marathon?" You grin and nod happily. – While you never did find an explanation for Henry's odd behavior that weekend, things seemed to, mostly, go back to normal. Every once in a while he would disappear into his office, or you'd wake up in the night to that all too familiar shuffling sound, but you just chalked it up to work stress. [[Story Intro]]

''1 ITEM ENDING - CAUGHT'' You hear the exasperated sign from behind you and your heart sinks. Busted, so busted. "Come'on kid, you know the rules. Back to bed, now" Sleep descends on you quickly, however, the combined fatigue of the past few days hitting you all at once. – The sound of a few sharp knocks on your door startles you awake. Dragging yourself out of bed and into the dining room, you see Henry has already laid out breakfast and is silently reading the paper. Glancing at Henry's face, you're taken aback at how tired he looks and wonder briefly if you're sporting the same dark circles under your eyes. You notice Henry staring at you from over the paper and you force a smile. "If you take a picture, it'll last longer" you finally manage, remembering his joke from the day before. Henry continues to stare at you silently, before setting the paper aside and letting out a grunt. "Your Mom made the rules clear before she left on this trip. You're grounded." – After that long weekend, Henry was never quite the same. Initially you figured he was just upset at catching you out of bed that night, but his attitude towards you never fully thawed. Sure every now and then you'd catch a glimpse of the man who helped raise you, but at times it felt like he was an actor trying to remember his next line at school play. There wasn't anything obvious, more of a feeling. The way he would phrase an inside joke but he would emphasize the wrong word, and the joke would fall flat. No one else seemed to notice and after a while, plus the increasingly concerned looks you received from your mother when you tried to bring it up, you dropped the topic entirely. [[Story Intro]]

''1 ITEM ENDING - CAUGHT - CD'' You hear the exasperated sign from behind you and you push the strange doll up your sleeve, feeling the rough fibers bite into your arm as you turn to face Henry. Busted, so busted. "Come'on kid, you know the rules. Back to bed, now" Nodding, you beeline for your bedroom. – Under your covers, you wait until you hear the creak of Henry’s bedroom door closing before pulling out the doll for a closer look. It’s made out of dried corn husks with string tied together to create the head and hands. There’s a strip of torn fabric wrapped around the middle to create the waist. With a mild sense of alarm, you realize that the fabric is a piece of an old sweatshirt you thought you'd donated weeks ago. You quickly grab a shoe box from under your bed and drop the doll inside, shutting the lid on tight before shoving it to the back of your closet. You lay in bed, trying to make sense of the past three days. Sleep descends on you quickly, however, the combined fatigue of the past few days hitting you all at once. – The sound of a few sharp knocks on your door startles you awake. Dragging yourself out of bed and into the dining room, you see Henry has already laid out breakfast and is silently reading the paper. Glancing at Henry's face, you're taken aback at how tired he looks and wonder briefly if you're sporting the same dark circles under your eyes. You notice Henry staring at you from over the paper and you force a smile. "If you take a picture, it'll last longer" you finally manage, remembering his joke from the day before. Henry continues to stare at you silently, before setting the paper aside and letting out a grunt. "Your Mom made the rules clear before she left on this trip. You're grounded." – After that long weekend, Henry was never quite the same. Initially you figured he was just upset at catching you out of bed that night, but his attitude towards you never fully thawed. Sure every now and then you'd catch a glimpse of the man who helped raise you, but at times it felt like he was an actor trying to remember his next line at school play. There wasn't anything obvious, more of a feeling. The way he would phrase an inside joke but he would emphasize the wrong word, and the joke would fall flat. No one else seemed to notice and after a while, plus the increasingly concerned looks you received from your mother when you tried to bring it up, you dropped the topic entirely. [[Story Intro]]

''1 ITEM ENDING - CAUGHT - WB'' You hear the exasperated sign from behind you and you frantically shove the bottle into your pocket as you turn to face Henry. Busted, so busted. "Come'on kid, you know the rules. Back to bed, now" Nodding, you beeline for your bedroom. – Under your covers, you wait until you hear the creak of Henry’s bedroom door closing before pulling the bottle out of your pocket. You wonder how old the dark green glass is, tilting it slightly to better catch the light coming in through your window. Hearing a slight clinking sound you hold the bottle closer to your face, peering inside. You flinch in disgust when you realize teeth are floating in its murky liquid. You quickly grab a shoe box from under your bed and drop the bottle inside, shutting the lid on tight before shoving it to the back of your closet. You lay in bed, trying to make sense of the past three days. Sleep descends on you quickly, however, the combined fatigue of the past few days hitting you all at once. – The sound of a few sharp knocks on your door startles you awake. Dragging yourself out of bed and into the dining room, you see Henry has already laid out breakfast and is silently reading the paper. Glancing at Henry's face, you're taken aback at how tired he looks and wonder briefly if you're sporting the same dark circles under your eyes. You notice Henry staring at you from over the paper and you force a smile. "If you take a picture, it'll last longer" you finally manage, remembering his joke from the day before. Henry continues to stare at you silently, before setting the paper aside and letting out a grunt. "Your Mom made the rules clear before she left on this trip. You're grounded." – After that long weekend, Henry was never quite the same. Initially you figured he was just upset at catching you out of bed that night, but his attitude towards you never fully thawed. Sure every now and then you'd catch a glimpse of the man who helped raise you, but at times it felt like he was an actor trying to remember his next line at school play. There wasn't anything obvious, more of a feeling. The way he would phrase an inside joke but he would emphasize the wrong word, and the joke would fall flat. No one else seemed to notice and after a while, plus the increasingly concerned looks you received from your mother when you tried to bring it up, you dropped the topic entirely. [[Story Intro]]

''1 ITEM ENDING - SURVIVED'' You lay in bed, thinking over the weekend to try and make sense of things. Sleep descends on you quickly, however, the fatigue of the past few days hitting you all at once. – The sound of a few sharp knocks on your door startles you awake. Dragging yourself out of bed and into the dining room, you see Henry has already laid out breakfast and is silently reading the paper. Glancing at Henry's face, you're taken aback at how tired he looks and wonder briefly if you're sporting the same dark circles under your eyes. You notice Henry staring at you from over the paper and you force a smile. "If you take a picture, it'll last longer" you finally manage, remembering his joke from the day before. A confused look flashes over his face before his eyes return to the paper. You sit in the uneasy silence and force down the remainder of your breakfast. – After that long weekend, Henry was never quite the same. Initially you figured he was just upset at catching you out of bed that night, but his attitude towards you never fully thawed. Sure every now and then you'd catch a glimpse of the man who helped raise you, but at times it felt like he was an actor trying to remember his next line at school play. There wasn't anything obvious, more of a feeling. The way he would phrase an inside joke but he would emphasize the wrong word, and the joke would fall flat. No one else seemed to notice and after a while, plus the increasingly concerned looks you received from your mother when you tried to bring it up, you dropped the topic entirely. [[Story Intro]]

''1 ITEM ENDING - SURVIVED - CD'' The rough fibers of the doll bite into your fingers as you make your way back to your bedroom. Sitting on your bed, you study the doll more closely. It’s made out of dried corn husks with string tied together to create the head and hands. There’s a strip of torn fabric wrapped around the middle to create the waist. With a mild sense of alarm, you realize that the fabric is a piece of an old sweatshirt you thought you'd donated weeks ago. You quickly grab a shoe box from under your bed and drop the doll inside, shutting the lid on tight before shoving it to the back of your closet. You lay in bed, trying to make sense of the past three days. Sleep descends on you quickly, however, the combined fatigue of the past few days hitting you all at once. – The sound of a few sharp knocks on your door startles you awake. Dragging yourself out of bed and into the dining room, you see Henry has already laid out breakfast and is silently reading the paper. Glancing at Henry's face, you're taken aback at how tired he looks and wonder briefly if you're sporting the same dark circles under your eyes. You notice Henry staring at you from over the paper and you force a smile. "If you take a picture, it'll last longer" you finally manage, remembering his joke from the day before. A confused look flashes over his face before his eyes return to the paper. You sit in the uneasy silence and force down the remainder of your breakfast. – After that long weekend, Henry was never quite the same. Initially you figured he was just upset at catching you out of bed that night, but his attitude towards you never fully thawed. Sure every now and then you'd catch a glimpse of the man who helped raise you, but at times it felt like he was an actor trying to remember his next line at school play. There wasn't anything obvious, more of a feeling. The way he would phrase an inside joke but he would emphasize the wrong word, and the joke would fall flat. No one else seemed to notice and after a while, plus the increasingly concerned looks you received from your mother when you tried to bring it up, you dropped the topic entirely. [[Story Intro]]

''1 ITEM ENDING - SURVIVED - WB'' The glass bottle clutched in your hands feels cool to the touch as you sneak back into your bedroom. Sitting on your bed, you study the bottle and wonder how old the dark green glass is. You tilt it slightly to better catch the light coming in through your window. Hearing a slight clinking sound you hold the bottle closer to your face, peering inside. You flinch in disgust when you realize teeth are floating in its murky liquid. You quickly grab a shoe box from under your bed and drop the bottle inside, shutting the lid on tight before shoving it to the back of your closet. You lay in bed, trying to make sense of the past three days. Sleep descends on you quickly, however, the combined fatigue of the past few days hitting you all at once. – The sound of a few sharp knocks on your door startles you awake. Dragging yourself out of bed and into the dining room, you see Henry has already laid out breakfast and is silently reading the paper. Glancing at Henry's face, you're taken aback at how tired he looks and wonder briefly if you're sporting the same dark circles under your eyes. You notice Henry staring at you from over the paper and you force a smile. "If you take a picture, it'll last longer" you finally manage, remembering his joke from the day before. A confused look flashes over his face before his eyes return to the paper. You sit in the uneasy silence and force down the remainder of your breakfast. – After that long weekend, Henry was never quite the same. Initially you figured he was just upset at catching you out of bed that night, but his attitude towards you never fully thawed. Sure every now and then you'd catch a glimpse of the man who helped raise you, but at times it felt like he was an actor trying to remember his next line at school play. There wasn't anything obvious, more of a feeling. The way he would phrase an inside joke but he would emphasize the wrong word, and the joke would fall flat. No one else seemed to notice and after a while, plus the increasingly concerned looks you received from your mother when you tried to bring it up, you dropped the topic entirely. [[Story Intro]]

''2 ITEMS ENDING - CAUGHT'' "What, exactly, are you doing out of bed?" The words are quiet, but rattle with an undercurrent of rage. Turning around the ice from Henry's glare makes your heart skip a beat. You're so busted. "Get back to bed. Now." – Trembling slightly, you beeline for your bedroom feeling Henry's eyes bore into your back. As you scramble into bed you risk at glance at Henry’s glaring face in your doorway. “We’ll talk about this in the morning” he says before shutting your door with an audible “thawk”. You breathe deeply, trying to get your heart to slow down, while counting to twenty. Laying back against your pillows, your racing thoughts are muffled by the fatigue of the past three nights. Sleep descends on you like a wave, silencing your dread for the coming morning. – You open your eyes to a series of sharp knocks on your bedroom door. Startled by the sound, you quickly make your way into the dining room table but pause before taking your seat. Henry is sitting cross armed at the table, fixing you in place with a cold stare. Your throat grows tight as you look at him, feeling as though you're looking at a stranger. The dark circles under his eyes have gotten deeper, and his usual easy going expression has been replaced by a look of irritation. You’re so toast. – "I don't know why you're wandering the house at night, but you know the rules" Henry says, with a now familiar edge to his voice. "You're grounded and I'll be discussing your behavior with your Mom when she gets back tonight. I want the dishes done and your room cleaned by this afternoon." You slump down into your seat, exhaustion making it impossible to hide your irritation as you grumble “Fine”. He leans forward, his eyes narrowing. "I'm sorry, what was that?" He asks. You stare for a second before quietly saying "Will do". "That's what I thought" – From that night on, Henry pulled away from you entirely. It wasn't immediate, more like he began to gradually draw inward. Instead of the expected ritual of going around the table to ask about each other's day, the dinner table steadily became silent. He began to spend more and more time in his office with the door shut. There was something almost surgical about it, as if he was attempting to remove you from his life like a cancerous mole. After graduating from high school, you exchanged the obligatory Christmas and Birthday phone calls. The calls turned into cards until, eventually, you stopped hearing from Henry entirely. [[Story Intro]]

''2 ITEMS ENDING - CAUGHT - RC/CD'' "What, exactly, are you doing out of bed?" You freeze, shoving the strange doll into your pants as you slowly turn around. The ice from Henry's glare makes your heart skip a beat. You're so busted. – "Move it!” His voice is almost a shout, and you beeline for your bedroom feeling Henry’s eye bore into your back. As you scramble into bed you risk at glance at Henry’s glaring face in your doorway. “We’ll talk about this in the morning” he says before shutting your door with an audible ‘thawk’. You breathe deeply while counting to twenty, trying to get your heart to slow down. – Under your covers, you wait until you hear the creak of Henry’s bedroom door closing before pulling out the doll for a closer look. It’s made out of dried corn husks with string tied together to create the head and hands. There’s a strip of torn fabric wrapped around the middle to create the waist. With a mild sense of alarm, you realize that the fabric is a piece of an old sweatshirt you thought you'd donated weeks ago. You grab the shoe box from under your bed and drop the doll next to the black candles already inside. Staring at the two items, your head begins to pound as you try to make sense of the past three days. You shut the lid on the shoebox and shove it into the back of your closet before climbing into bed. Laying back against your pillows, your racing thoughts are muffled by the fatigue of the past three nights. Sleep descends on you like a wave, silencing your dread for the coming morning. – You open your eyes quickly to a series of sharp knocks on your bedroom door. Startled by the sound, you quickly make your way into the dining room table but pause before taking your seat. Henry is sitting cross armed at the table, fixing you in place with a cold stare. Your throat grows tight as you look at him, feeling as though you're looking at a stranger. The dark circles under his eyes have gotten deeper, and his usual easy going expression has been replaced by a look of irritation. You’re so toast. – "I don't know why you're wandering the house at night, but you know the rules" Henry says, with a now familiar edge to his voice. "You're grounded and I'll be discussing your behavior with your Mom when she gets back tonight. I want the dishes done and your room cleaned by this afternoon." You slump down into your seat, exhaustion making it impossible to hide your irritation as you grumble “Fine”. He leans forward, his eyes narrowing. "I'm sorry, what was that?" He asks. You stare for a second before quietly saying "Will do". "That's what I thought" – From that night on, Henry pulled away from you entirely. It wasn't immediate, more like he began to gradually draw inward. Instead of the expected ritual of going around the table to ask about each other's day, the dinner table steadily became silent. He began to spend more and more time in his office with the door shut. There was something almost surgical about it, as if he was attempting to remove you from his life like a cancerous mole. After graduating from high school, you exchanged the obligatory Christmas and Birthday phone calls. The calls turned into cards until, eventually, you stopped hearing from Henry entirely. [[Story Intro]]

''2 ITEM ENDING - CAUGHT - RC/WB'' "What, exactly, are you doing out of bed?" You freeze, shoving the small bottle into your pocket as you slowly turn around. The ice from Henry's glare makes your heart skip a beat. You're so busted. – "Move it!” His voice is almost a shout, and you beeline for your bedroom feeling Henry’s eye bore into your back. As you scramble into bed you risk at glance at Henry’s glaring face in your doorway. “We’ll talk about this in the morning” he says before shutting your door with an audible ‘thawk’. You breathe deeply while counting to twenty, trying to get your heart to slow down. – Under your covers, you wait until you hear the creak of Henry’s bedroom door closing before pulling the bottle out of your pocket. You wonder how old the dark green glass is, tilting it slightly to better catch the light coming in through your window. Hearing a slight clinking sound you hold the bottle closer to your face, peering inside. You flinch in disgust when you realize teeth are floating in its murky liquid. You grab the shoe box from under your bed and drop the bottle next to the black candles already inside. Staring at the two items, your head begins to pound as you try to make sense of the past three days. You shut the lid on the shoebox and shove it into the back of your closet before climbing into bed. Laying back against your pillows, your racing thoughts are muffled by the fatigue of the past three nights. Sleep descends on you like a wave, silencing your dread for the coming morning. – You open your eyes quickly to a series of sharp knocks on your bedroom door. Startled by the sound, you quickly make your way into the dining room table but pause before taking your seat. Henry is sitting cross armed at the table, fixing you in place with a cold stare. Your throat grows tight as you look at him, feeling as though you're looking at a stranger. The dark circles under his eyes have gotten deeper, and his usual easy going expression has been replaced by a look of irritation. You’re so toast. – "I don't know why you're wandering the house at night, but you know the rules" Henry says, with a now familiar edge to his voice. "You're grounded and I'll be discussing your behavior with your Mom when she gets back tonight. I want the dishes done and your room cleaned by this afternoon." You slump down into your seat, exhaustion making it impossible to hide your irritation as you grumble “Fine”. He leans forward, his eyes narrowing. "I'm sorry, what was that?" He asks. You stare for a second before quietly saying "Will do". "That's what I thought" – From that night on, Henry pulled away from you entirely. It wasn't immediate, more like he began to gradually draw inward. Instead of the expected ritual of going around the table to ask about each other's day, the dinner table steadily became silent. He began to spend more and more time in his office with the door shut. There was something almost surgical about it, as if he was attempting to remove you from his life like a cancerous mole. After graduating from high school, you exchanged the obligatory Christmas and Birthday phone calls. The calls turned into cards until, eventually, you stopped hearing from Henry entirely. [[Story Intro]]

''2 ITEM ENDING - CAUGHT - SB/CD'' "What, exactly, are you doing out of bed?" You freeze, shoving the strange doll into your pants as you slowly turn around. The ice from Henry's glare makes your heart skip a beat. You're so busted. – "Move it!” His voice is almost a shout, and you beeline for your bedroom feeling Henry’s eye bore into your back. As you scramble into bed you risk at glance at Henry’s glaring face in your doorway. “We’ll talk about this in the morning” he says before shutting your door with an audible ‘thawk’. You breathe deeply while counting to twenty, trying to get your heart to slow down. – Under your covers, you wait until you hear the creak of Henry’s bedroom door closing before pulling out the doll for a closer look. It’s made out of dried corn husks with string tied together to create the head and hands. There’s a strip of torn fabric wrapped around the middle to create the waist. With a mild sense of alarm, you realize that the fabric is a piece of an old sweatshirt you thought you'd donated weeks ago. You grab the shoe box from under your bed and drop the doll next to the drawstring bag already inside. Staring at the two items, your head begins to pound as you try to make sense of the past three days. You shut the lid on the shoebox and shove it into the back of your closet before climbing into bed. Laying back against your pillows, your racing thoughts are muffled by the fatigue of the past three nights. Sleep descends on you like a wave, silencing your dread for the coming morning. – You open your eyes quickly to a series of sharp knocks on your bedroom door. Startled by the sound, you quickly make your way into the dining room table but pause before taking your seat. Henry is sitting cross armed at the table, fixing you in place with a cold stare. Your throat grows tight as you look at him, feeling as though you're looking at a stranger. The dark circles under his eyes have gotten deeper, and his usual easy going expression has been replaced by a look of irritation. You’re so toast. – "I don't know why you're wandering the house at night, but you know the rules" Henry says, with a now familiar edge to his voice. "You're grounded and I'll be discussing your behavior with your Mom when she gets back tonight. I want the dishes done and your room cleaned by this afternoon." You slump down into your seat, exhaustion making it impossible to hide your irritation as you grumble “Fine”. He leans forward, his eyes narrowing. "I'm sorry, what was that?" He asks. You stare for a second before quietly saying "Will do". "That's what I thought" – From that night on, Henry pulled away from you entirely. It wasn't immediate, more like he began to gradually draw inward. Instead of the expected ritual of going around the table to ask about each other's day, the dinner table steadily became silent. He began to spend more and more time in his office with the door shut. There was something almost surgical about it, as if he was attempting to remove you from his life like a cancerous mole. After graduating from high school, you exchanged the obligatory Christmas and Birthday phone calls. The calls turned into cards until, eventually, you stopped hearing from Henry entirely. [[Story Intro]]

''2 ITEM ENDING - CAUGHT - SB/WB'' "What, exactly, are you doing out of bed?" You freeze, shoving the small bottle into your pocket as you slowly turn around. The ice from Henry's glare makes your heart skip a beat. You're so busted. – "Move it!” His voice is almost a shout, and you beeline for your bedroom feeling Henry’s eye bore into your back. As you scramble into bed you risk at glance at Henry’s glaring face in your doorway. “We’ll talk about this in the morning” he says before shutting your door with an audible ‘thawk’. You breathe deeply while counting to twenty, trying to get your heart to slow down. – Under your covers, you wait until you hear the creak of Henry’s bedroom door closing before pulling the bottle out of your pocket. You wonder how old the dark green glass is, tilting it slightly to better catch the light coming in through your window. Hearing a slight clinking sound you hold the bottle closer to your face, peering inside. You flinch in disgust when you realize teeth are floating in its murky liquid. You grab the shoe box from under your bed and drop the bottle next to the drawstring bag already inside. Staring at the two items, your head begins to pound as you try to make sense of the past three days. You shut the lid on the shoebox and shove it into the back of your closet before climbing into bed. Laying back against your pillows, your racing thoughts are muffled by the fatigue of the past three nights. Sleep descends on you like a wave, silencing your dread for the coming morning. – You open your eyes quickly to a series of sharp knocks on your bedroom door. Startled by the sound, you quickly make your way into the dining room table but pause before taking your seat. Henry is sitting cross armed at the table, fixing you in place with a cold stare. Your throat grows tight as you look at him, feeling as though you're looking at a stranger. The dark circles under his eyes have gotten deeper, and his usual easy going expression has been replaced by a look of irritation. You’re so toast. – "I don't know why you're wandering the house at night, but you know the rules" Henry says, with a now familiar edge to his voice. "You're grounded and I'll be discussing your behavior with your Mom when she gets back tonight. I want the dishes done and your room cleaned by this afternoon." You slump down into your seat, exhaustion making it impossible to hide your irritation as you grumble “Fine”. He leans forward, his eyes narrowing. "I'm sorry, what was that?" He asks. You stare for a second before quietly saying "Will do". "That's what I thought" – From that night on, Henry pulled away from you entirely. It wasn't immediate, more like he began to gradually draw inward. Instead of the expected ritual of going around the table to ask about each other's day, the dinner table steadily became silent. He began to spend more and more time in his office with the door shut. There was something almost surgical about it, as if he was attempting to remove you from his life like a cancerous mole. After graduating from high school, you exchanged the obligatory Christmas and Birthday phone calls. The calls turned into cards until, eventually, you stopped hearing from Henry entirely. [[Story Intro]]

''2 ITEM END - CAUGHT - SM/CD'' "What, exactly, are you doing out of bed?" You freeze, shoving the strange doll into your pants as you slowly turn around. The ice from Henry's glare makes your heart skip a beat. You're so busted. – "Move it!” His voice is almost a shout, and you beeline for your bedroom feeling Henry’s eye bore into your back. As you scramble into bed you risk at glance at Henry’s glaring face in your doorway. “We’ll talk about this in the morning” he says before shutting your door with an audible ‘thawk’. You breathe deeply while counting to twenty, trying to get your heart to slow down. – Under your covers, you wait until you hear the creak of Henry’s bedroom door closing before pulling out the doll for a closer look. It’s made out of dried corn husks with string tied together to create the head and hands. There’s a strip of torn fabric wrapped around the middle to create the waist. With a mild sense of alarm, you realize that the fabric is a piece of an old sweatshirt you thought you'd donated weeks ago. You grab the shoe box from under your bed and drop the doll next to the fold sheet music already inside. Staring at the two items, your head begins to pound as you try to make sense of the past three days. You shut the lid on the shoebox and shove it into the back of your closet before climbing into bed. Laying back against your pillows, your racing thoughts are muffled by the fatigue of the past three nights. Sleep descends on you like a wave, silencing your dread for the coming morning. – You open your eyes quickly to a series of sharp knocks on your bedroom door. Startled by the sound, you quickly make your way into the dining room table but pause before taking your seat. Henry is sitting cross armed at the table, fixing you in place with a cold stare. Your throat grows tight as you look at him, feeling as though you're looking at a stranger. The dark circles under his eyes have gotten deeper, and his usual easy going expression has been replaced by a look of irritation. You’re so toast. – "I don't know why you're wandering the house at night, but you know the rules" Henry says, with a now familiar edge to his voice. "You're grounded and I'll be discussing your behavior with your Mom when she gets back tonight. I want the dishes done and your room cleaned by this afternoon." You slump down into your seat, exhaustion making it impossible to hide your irritation as you grumble “Fine”. He leans forward, his eyes narrowing. "I'm sorry, what was that?" He asks. You stare for a second before quietly saying "Will do". "That's what I thought" – From that night on, Henry pulled away from you entirely. It wasn't immediate, more like he began to gradually draw inward. Instead of the expected ritual of going around the table to ask about each other's day, the dinner table steadily became silent. He began to spend more and more time in his office with the door shut. There was something almost surgical about it, as if he was attempting to remove you from his life like a cancerous mole. After graduating from high school, you exchanged the obligatory Christmas and Birthday phone calls. The calls turned into cards until, eventually, you stopped hearing from Henry entirely. [[Story Intro]]

''2 ITEM ENDING - CAUGHT - SM/WB'' "What, exactly, are you doing out of bed?" You freeze, shoving the small bottle into your pocket as you slowly turn around. The ice from Henry's glare makes your heart skip a beat. You're so busted. – "Move it!” His voice is almost a shout, and you beeline for your bedroom feeling Henry’s eye bore into your back. As you scramble into bed you risk at glance at Henry’s glaring face in your doorway. “We’ll talk about this in the morning” he says before shutting your door with an audible ‘thawk’. You breathe deeply while counting to twenty, trying to get your heart to slow down. – Under your covers, you wait until you hear the creak of Henry’s bedroom door closing before pulling the bottle out of your pocket. You wonder how old the dark green glass is, tilting it slightly to better catch the light coming in through your window. Hearing a slight clinking sound you hold the bottle closer to your face, peering inside. You flinch in disgust when you realize teeth are floating in its murky liquid. You grab the shoe box from under your bed and drop the bottle next to the folded sheet music already inside. Staring at the two items, your head begins to pound as you try to make sense of the past three days. You shut the lid on the shoebox and shove it into the back of your closet before climbing into bed. Laying back against your pillows, your racing thoughts are muffled by the fatigue of the past three nights. Sleep descends on you like a wave, silencing your dread for the coming morning. – You open your eyes quickly to a series of sharp knocks on your bedroom door. Startled by the sound, you quickly make your way into the dining room table but pause before taking your seat. Henry is sitting cross armed at the table, fixing you in place with a cold stare. Your throat grows tight as you look at him, feeling as though you're looking at a stranger. The dark circles under his eyes have gotten deeper, and his usual easy going expression has been replaced by a look of irritation. You’re so toast. – "I don't know why you're wandering the house at night, but you know the rules" Henry says, with a now familiar edge to his voice. "You're grounded and I'll be discussing your behavior with your Mom when she gets back tonight. I want the dishes done and your room cleaned by this afternoon." You slump down into your seat, exhaustion making it impossible to hide your irritation as you grumble “Fine”. He leans forward, his eyes narrowing. "I'm sorry, what was that?" He asks. You stare for a second before quietly saying "Will do". "That's what I thought" – From that night on, Henry pulled away from you entirely. It wasn't immediate, more like he began to gradually draw inward. Instead of the expected ritual of going around the table to ask about each other's day, the dinner table steadily became silent. He began to spend more and more time in his office with the door shut. There was something almost surgical about it, as if he was attempting to remove you from his life like a cancerous mole. After graduating from high school, you exchanged the obligatory Christmas and Birthday phone calls. The calls turned into cards until, eventually, you stopped hearing from Henry entirely. [[Story Intro]]

''2 ITEM ENDING - CAUGHT - SS/CD'' "What, exactly, are you doing out of bed?" You freeze, shoving the strange doll into your pants as you slowly turn around. The ice from Henry's glare makes your heart skip a beat. You're so busted. – "Move it!” His voice is almost a shout, and you beeline for your bedroom feeling Henry’s eye bore into your back. As you scramble into bed you risk at glance at Henry’s glaring face in your doorway. “We’ll talk about this in the morning” he says before shutting your door with an audible ‘thawk’. You breathe deeply while counting to twenty, trying to get your heart to slow down. – Under your covers, you wait until you hear the creak of Henry’s bedroom door closing before pulling out the doll for a closer look. It’s made out of dried corn husks with string tied together to create the head and hands. There’s a strip of torn fabric wrapped around the middle to create the waist. With a mild sense of alarm, you realize that the fabric is a piece of an old sweatshirt you thought you'd donated weeks ago. You grab the shoe box from under your bed and drop the doll next to the charred herb bundle already inside. Staring at the two items, your head begins to pound as you try to make sense of the past three days. You shut the lid on the shoebox and shove it into the back of your closet before climbing into bed. Laying back against your pillows, your racing thoughts are muffled by the fatigue of the past three nights. Sleep descends on you like a wave, silencing your dread for the coming morning. – You open your eyes quickly to a series of sharp knocks on your bedroom door. Startled by the sound, you quickly make your way into the dining room table but pause before taking your seat. Henry is sitting cross armed at the table, fixing you in place with a cold stare. Your throat grows tight as you look at him, feeling as though you're looking at a stranger. The dark circles under his eyes have gotten deeper, and his usual easy going expression has been replaced by a look of irritation. You’re so toast. – "I don't know why you're wandering the house at night, but you know the rules" Henry says, with a now familiar edge to his voice. "You're grounded and I'll be discussing your behavior with your Mom when she gets back tonight. I want the dishes done and your room cleaned by this afternoon." You slump down into your seat, exhaustion making it impossible to hide your irritation as you grumble “Fine”. He leans forward, his eyes narrowing. "I'm sorry, what was that?" He asks. You stare for a second before quietly saying "Will do". "That's what I thought" – From that night on, Henry pulled away from you entirely. It wasn't immediate, more like he began to gradually draw inward. Instead of the expected ritual of going around the table to ask about each other's day, the dinner table steadily became silent. He began to spend more and more time in his office with the door shut. There was something almost surgical about it, as if he was attempting to remove you from his life like a cancerous mole. After graduating from high school, you exchanged the obligatory Christmas and Birthday phone calls. The calls turned into cards until, eventually, you stopped hearing from Henry entirely. [[Story Intro]]

''2 ITEM ENDING - CAUGHT - SS/WB'' "What, exactly, are you doing out of bed?" You freeze, shoving the small bottle into your pocket as you slowly turn around. The ice from Henry's glare makes your heart skip a beat. You're so busted. – "Move it!” His voice is almost a shout, and you beeline for your bedroom feeling Henry’s eye bore into your back. As you scramble into bed you risk at glance at Henry’s glaring face in your doorway. “We’ll talk about this in the morning” he says before shutting your door with an audible ‘thawk’. You breathe deeply while counting to twenty, trying to get your heart to slow down. – Under your covers, you wait until you hear the creak of Henry’s bedroom door closing before pulling the bottle out of your pocket. You wonder how old the dark green glass is, tilting it slightly to better catch the light coming in through your window. Hearing a slight clinking sound you hold the bottle closer to your face, peering inside. You flinch in disgust when you realize teeth are floating in its murky liquid. You grab the shoe box from under your bed and drop the bottle next to the charred herb bundle already inside. Staring at the two items, your head begins to pound as you try to make sense of the past three days. You shut the lid on the shoebox and shove it into the back of your closet before climbing into bed. Laying back against your pillows, your racing thoughts are muffled by the fatigue of the past three nights. Sleep descends on you like a wave, silencing your dread for the coming morning. – You open your eyes quickly to a series of sharp knocks on your bedroom door. Startled by the sound, you quickly make your way into the dining room table but pause before taking your seat. Henry is sitting cross armed at the table, fixing you in place with a cold stare. Your throat grows tight as you look at him, feeling as though you're looking at a stranger. The dark circles under his eyes have gotten deeper, and his usual easy going expression has been replaced by a look of irritation. You’re so toast. – "I don't know why you're wandering the house at night, but you know the rules" Henry says, with a now familiar edge to his voice. "You're grounded and I'll be discussing your behavior with your Mom when she gets back tonight. I want the dishes done and your room cleaned by this afternoon." You slump down into your seat, exhaustion making it impossible to hide your irritation as you grumble “Fine”. He leans forward, his eyes narrowing. "I'm sorry, what was that?" He asks. You stare for a second before quietly saying "Will do". "That's what I thought" – From that night on, Henry pulled away from you entirely. It wasn't immediate, more like he began to gradually draw inward. Instead of the expected ritual of going around the table to ask about each other's day, the dinner table steadily became silent. He began to spend more and more time in his office with the door shut. There was something almost surgical about it, as if he was attempting to remove you from his life like a cancerous mole. After graduating from high school, you exchanged the obligatory Christmas and Birthday phone calls. The calls turned into cards until, eventually, you stopped hearing from Henry entirely. [[Story Intro]]

''2 ITEM ENDING - CD/WB'' Returning to your room, you quickly look around for something to store the items you found around the house. Spotting an old shoe box under your bed, you open the lid. Trembling slightly, you look at the bottle clutched in your hands. You wonder how old the dark green glass is, tilting it slightly to better catch the light. Hearing a slight clinking sound you hold the bottle closer to your face, peering inside. You flinch in disgust when you realize teeth are floating inside the bottle's murky liquid, and quickly drop it into the box. – The rough fibers of the dried corn doll bite into your fingers as you pull it from your back pocket. Turning the doll over in your hand, you see it’s made of dried corn husks with string tied together to create the head and hands. There’s a strip of torn fabric wrapped around the middle to create the waist. With a mild sense of alarm, you realize that the fabric is a piece of an old sweatshirt you thought you'd donated weeks ago. You tuck the doll next to the bottle, shutting the lid on the box before shoving it into the back of your closet before climbing into bed. Laying back against your pillows, your racing thoughts are muffled by the fatigue of the past three nights. Sleep descends on you like a wave. – You open your eyes to a series of sharp knocks on your bedroom door. Startled by the sound, you quickly make your way into the dining room. Henry sits silently behind the morning paper and does not return your morning greetings. Taking your place in front of your breakfast, you notice absently that the eggs look a little over done but munch on them anyway. Henry continues to ignore your attempts to start a conversation, the silence only interrupted by the sound of the newspaper pages turning. – "Your Mom's getting home later tonight, make sure the dishes are done and your room's clean." The sudden sound of Henry's voice makes you jump. You slump down into your seat, exhaustion making it impossible to hide your irritation as you grumble “Fine”. He leans forward, his eyes narrowing. "I'm sorry, what was that?" He asks. You stare for a second before quietly saying "Will do". "That's what I thought" – From that night on, Henry pulled away from you entirely. It wasn't immediate, more like he began to gradually draw inward. Instead of the expected ritual of going around the table to ask about each other's day, the dinner table steadily became silent. He began to spend more and more time in his office with the door shut. There was something almost surgical about it, as if he was attempting to remove you from his life like a cancerous mole. After graduating from high school, you exchanged the obligatory Christmas and Birthday phone calls. The calls turned into cards until, eventually, you stopped hearing from Henry entirely. [[Story Intro]]

''2 ITEM ENDING - SURVIVED'' You sit on the floor, looking at the open shoe box and trying to make sense of its contents. Feeling your head begin to pound, you put the lid back on and shove the box into the back of your closet before climbing into bed. Even though your thoughts are still racing sleep descends on you quickly, the combined fatigue of the past few days hitting you all at once. – You open your eyes to a series of sharp knocks on your bedroom door. Startled by the sound, you quickly make your way into the dining room. Henry sits silently behind the morning paper and does not return your morning greetings. Taking your place in front of your breakfast, you notice absently that the eggs look a little over done but munch on them anyway. Henry continues to ignore your attempts to start a conversation, the silence only interrupted by the sound of the newspaper pages turning. – "Your Mom's getting home later tonight, make sure the dishes are done and your room's clean." The sudden sound of Henry's voice makes you jump. You slump down into your seat, exhaustion making it impossible to hide your irritation as you grumble “Fine”. He leans forward, his eyes narrowing. "I'm sorry, what was that?" He asks. You stare for a second before quietly saying "Will do". "That's what I thought" – From that night on, Henry pulled away from you entirely. It wasn't immediate, more like he began to gradually draw inward. Instead of the expected ritual of going around the table to ask about each other's day, the dinner table steadily became silent. He began to spend more and more time in his office with the door shut. There was something almost surgical about it, as if he was attempting to remove you from his life like a cancerous mole. After graduating from high school, you exchanged the obligatory Christmas and Birthday phone calls. The calls turned into cards until, eventually, you stopped hearing from Henry entirely. [[Story Intro]]

''2 ITEMS ENDING - SURVIVED - RC/CD'' The rough fibers of the doll bite into your fingers as you make your way back to your bedroom. Sitting on your bed, you study the doll more closely. It’s made out of dried corn husks with string tied together to create the head and hands. There’s a strip of torn fabric wrapped around the middle to create the waist. With a mild sense of alarm, you realize that the fabric is a piece of an old sweatshirt you thought you'd donated weeks ago. You grab the shoe box from under your bed and drop the doll next to the black candles already inside. Staring at the two items, your head begins to pound as you try to make sense of the past three days. You shut the lid on the shoebox and shove it into the back of your closet before climbing into bed. Laying back against your pillows, your racing thoughts are muffled by the fatigue of the past three nights. Sleep descends on you like a wave. – You open your eyes to a series of sharp knocks on your bedroom door. Startled by the sound, you quickly make your way into the dining room. Henry sits silently behind the morning paper and does not return your morning greetings. Taking your place in front of your breakfast, you notice absently that the eggs look a little over done but munch on them anyway. Henry continues to ignore your attempts to start a conversation, the silence only interrupted by the sound of the newspaper pages turning. – "Your Mom's getting home later tonight, make sure the dishes are done and your room's clean." The sudden sound of Henry's voice makes you jump. You slump down into your seat, exhaustion making it impossible to hide your irritation as you grumble “Fine”. He leans forward, his eyes narrowing. "I'm sorry, what was that?" He asks. You stare for a second before quietly saying "Will do". "That's what I thought" – From that night on, Henry pulled away from you entirely. It wasn't immediate, more like he began to gradually draw inward. Instead of the expected ritual of going around the table to ask about each other's day, the dinner table steadily became silent. He began to spend more and more time in his office with the door shut. There was something almost surgical about it, as if he was attempting to remove you from his life like a cancerous mole. After graduating from high school, you exchanged the obligatory Christmas and Birthday phone calls. The calls turned into cards until, eventually, you stopped hearing from Henry entirely. [[Story Intro]]

''2 ITEM ENDING - SURVIVED - RC/WB'' The glass bottle clutched in your hands feels cool to the touch as you sneak back into your bedroom. Sitting on your bed, you study the bottle and wonder how old the dark green glass is. You tilt it slightly to better catch the light coming in through your window. Hearing a slight clinking sound you hold the bottle closer to your face, peering inside. You flinch in disgust when you realize teeth are floating in its murky liquid. You grab the shoe box from under your bed and drop the bottle next to the black candles already inside. Staring at the two items, your head begins to pound as you try to make sense of the past three days. You shut the lid on the shoebox and shove it into the back of your closet before climbing into bed. Laying back against your pillows, your racing thoughts are muffled by the fatigue of the past three nights. Sleep descends on you like a wave. – You open your eyes to a series of sharp knocks on your bedroom door. Startled by the sound, you quickly make your way into the dining room. Henry sits silently behind the morning paper and does not return your morning greetings. Taking your place in front of your breakfast, you notice absently that the eggs look a little over done but munch on them anyway. Henry continues to ignore your attempts to start a conversation, the silence only interrupted by the sound of the newspaper pages turning. – "Your Mom's getting home later tonight, make sure the dishes are done and your room's clean." The sudden sound of Henry's voice makes you jump. You slump down into your seat, exhaustion making it impossible to hide your irritation as you grumble “Fine”. He leans forward, his eyes narrowing. "I'm sorry, what was that?" He asks. You stare for a second before quietly saying "Will do". "That's what I thought" – From that night on, Henry pulled away from you entirely. It wasn't immediate, more like he began to gradually draw inward. Instead of the expected ritual of going around the table to ask about each other's day, the dinner table steadily became silent. He began to spend more and more time in his office with the door shut. There was something almost surgical about it, as if he was attempting to remove you from his life like a cancerous mole. After graduating from high school, you exchanged the obligatory Christmas and Birthday phone calls. The calls turned into cards until, eventually, you stopped hearing from Henry entirely. [[Story Intro]]

''2 ITEM ENDING - SURVIVED - SB/CD'' The rough fibers of the doll bite into your fingers as you make your way back to your bedroom. Sitting on your bed, you study the doll more closely. It’s made out of dried corn husks with string tied together to create the head and hands. There’s a strip of torn fabric wrapped around the middle to create the waist. With a mild sense of alarm, you realize that the fabric is a piece of an old sweatshirt you thought you'd donated weeks ago. You grab the shoe box from under your bed and drop the doll next to the drawstring bag already inside. Staring at the two items, your head begins to pound as you try to make sense of the past three days. You shut the lid on the shoebox and shove it into the back of your closet before climbing into bed. Laying back against your pillows, your racing thoughts are muffled by the fatigue of the past three nights. Sleep descends on you like a wave. – You open your eyes to a series of sharp knocks on your bedroom door. Startled by the sound, you quickly make your way into the dining room. Henry sits silently behind the morning paper and does not return your morning greetings. Taking your place in front of your breakfast, you notice absently that the eggs look a little over done but munch on them anyway. Henry continues to ignore your attempts to start a conversation, the silence only interrupted by the sound of the newspaper pages turning. – "Your Mom's getting home later tonight, make sure the dishes are done and your room's clean." The sudden sound of Henry's voice makes you jump. You slump down into your seat, exhaustion making it impossible to hide your irritation as you grumble “Fine”. He leans forward, his eyes narrowing. "I'm sorry, what was that?" He asks. You stare for a second before quietly saying "Will do". "That's what I thought" – From that night on, Henry pulled away from you entirely. It wasn't immediate, more like he began to gradually draw inward. Instead of the expected ritual of going around the table to ask about each other's day, the dinner table steadily became silent. He began to spend more and more time in his office with the door shut. There was something almost surgical about it, as if he was attempting to remove you from his life like a cancerous mole. After graduating from high school, you exchanged the obligatory Christmas and Birthday phone calls. The calls turned into cards until, eventually, you stopped hearing from Henry entirely. [[Story Intro]]

''2 ITEM ENDING - SURVIVED - SB/WB'' The glass bottle clutched in your hands feels cool to the touch as you sneak back into your bedroom. Sitting on your bed, you study the bottle and wonder how old the dark green glass is. You tilt it slightly to better catch the light coming in through your window. Hearing a slight clinking sound you hold the bottle closer to your face, peering inside. You flinch in disgust when you realize teeth are floating in its murky liquid. You grab the shoe box from under your bed and drop the bottle next to the drawstring bag already inside. Staring at the two items, your head begins to pound as you try to make sense of the past three days. You shut the lid on the shoebox and shove it into the back of your closet before climbing into bed. Laying back against your pillows, your racing thoughts are muffled by the fatigue of the past three nights. Sleep descends on you like a wave. – You open your eyes to a series of sharp knocks on your bedroom door. Startled by the sound, you quickly make your way into the dining room. Henry sits silently behind the morning paper and does not return your morning greetings. Taking your place in front of your breakfast, you notice absently that the eggs look a little over done but munch on them anyway. Henry continues to ignore your attempts to start a conversation, the silence only interrupted by the sound of the newspaper pages turning. – "Your Mom's getting home later tonight, make sure the dishes are done and your room's clean." The sudden sound of Henry's voice makes you jump. You slump down into your seat, exhaustion making it impossible to hide your irritation as you grumble “Fine”. He leans forward, his eyes narrowing. "I'm sorry, what was that?" He asks. You stare for a second before quietly saying "Will do". "That's what I thought" – From that night on, Henry pulled away from you entirely. It wasn't immediate, more like he began to gradually draw inward. Instead of the expected ritual of going around the table to ask about each other's day, the dinner table steadily became silent. He began to spend more and more time in his office with the door shut. There was something almost surgical about it, as if he was attempting to remove you from his life like a cancerous mole. After graduating from high school, you exchanged the obligatory Christmas and Birthday phone calls. The calls turned into cards until, eventually, you stopped hearing from Henry entirely. [[Story Intro]]

''2 ITEM ENDING - SURVIVED - SM/CD'' The rough fibers of the doll bite into your fingers as you make your way back to your bedroom. Sitting on your bed, you study the doll more closely. It’s made out of dried corn husks with string tied together to create the head and hands. There’s a strip of torn fabric wrapped around the middle to create the waist. With a mild sense of alarm, you realize that the fabric is a piece of an old sweatshirt you thought you'd donated weeks ago. You grab the shoe box from under your bed and drop the doll next to the folded sheet music already inside. Staring at the two items, your head begins to pound as you try to make sense of the past three days. You shut the lid on the shoebox and shove it into the back of your closet before climbing into bed. Laying back against your pillows, your racing thoughts are muffled by the fatigue of the past three nights. Sleep descends on you like a wave. – You open your eyes to a series of sharp knocks on your bedroom door. Startled by the sound, you quickly make your way into the dining room. Henry sits silently behind the morning paper and does not return your morning greetings. Taking your place in front of your breakfast, you notice absently that the eggs look a little over done but munch on them anyway. Henry continues to ignore your attempts to start a conversation, the silence only interrupted by the sound of the newspaper pages turning. – "Your Mom's getting home later tonight, make sure the dishes are done and your room's clean." The sudden sound of Henry's voice makes you jump. You slump down into your seat, exhaustion making it impossible to hide your irritation as you grumble “Fine”. He leans forward, his eyes narrowing. "I'm sorry, what was that?" He asks. You stare for a second before quietly saying "Will do". "That's what I thought" – From that night on, Henry pulled away from you entirely. It wasn't immediate, more like he began to gradually draw inward. Instead of the expected ritual of going around the table to ask about each other's day, the dinner table steadily became silent. He began to spend more and more time in his office with the door shut. There was something almost surgical about it, as if he was attempting to remove you from his life like a cancerous mole. After graduating from high school, you exchanged the obligatory Christmas and Birthday phone calls. The calls turned into cards until, eventually, you stopped hearing from Henry entirely. [[Story Intro]]

''2 ITEM ENDING - SURVIVED - SM/WB'' The glass bottle clutched in your hands feels cool to the touch as you sneak back into your bedroom. Sitting on your bed, you study the bottle and wonder how old the dark green glass is. You tilt it slightly to better catch the light coming in through your window. Hearing a slight clinking sound you hold the bottle closer to your face, peering inside. You flinch in disgust when you realize teeth are floating in its murky liquid. You grab the shoe box from under your bed and drop the bottle next to the folded sheet music already inside. Staring at the two items, your head begins to pound as you try to make sense of the past three days. You shut the lid on the shoebox and shove it into the back of your closet before climbing into bed. Laying back against your pillows, your racing thoughts are muffled by the fatigue of the past three nights. Sleep descends on you like a wave. – You open your eyes to a series of sharp knocks on your bedroom door. Startled by the sound, you quickly make your way into the dining room. Henry sits silently behind the morning paper and does not return your morning greetings. Taking your place in front of your breakfast, you notice absently that the eggs look a little over done but munch on them anyway. Henry continues to ignore your attempts to start a conversation, the silence only interrupted by the sound of the newspaper pages turning. – "Your Mom's getting home later tonight, make sure the dishes are done and your room's clean." The sudden sound of Henry's voice makes you jump. You slump down into your seat, exhaustion making it impossible to hide your irritation as you grumble “Fine”. He leans forward, his eyes narrowing. "I'm sorry, what was that?" He asks. You stare for a second before quietly saying "Will do". "That's what I thought" – From that night on, Henry pulled away from you entirely. It wasn't immediate, more like he began to gradually draw inward. Instead of the expected ritual of going around the table to ask about each other's day, the dinner table steadily became silent. He began to spend more and more time in his office with the door shut. There was something almost surgical about it, as if he was attempting to remove you from his life like a cancerous mole. After graduating from high school, you exchanged the obligatory Christmas and Birthday phone calls. The calls turned into cards until, eventually, you stopped hearing from Henry entirely. [[Story Intro]]

''2 ITEM ENDING - SURVIVED - SS/CD'' The rough fibers of the doll bite into your fingers as you make your way back to your bedroom. Sitting on your bed, you study the doll more closely. It’s made out of dried corn husks with string tied together to create the head and hands. There’s a strip of torn fabric wrapped around the middle to create the waist. With a mild sense of alarm, you realize that the fabric is a piece of an old sweatshirt you thought you'd donated weeks ago. You grab the shoe box from under your bed and drop the doll next to the charred herb bundle already inside. Staring at the two items, your head begins to pound as you try to make sense of the past three days. You shut the lid on the shoebox and shove it into the back of your closet before climbing into bed. Laying back against your pillows, your racing thoughts are muffled by the fatigue of the past three nights. Sleep descends on you like a wave. – You open your eyes to a series of sharp knocks on your bedroom door. Startled by the sound, you quickly make your way into the dining room. Henry sits silently behind the morning paper and does not return your morning greetings. Taking your place in front of your breakfast, you notice absently that the eggs look a little over done but munch on them anyway. Henry continues to ignore your attempts to start a conversation, the silence only interrupted by the sound of the newspaper pages turning. – "Your Mom's getting home later tonight, make sure the dishes are done and your room's clean." The sudden sound of Henry's voice makes you jump. You slump down into your seat, exhaustion making it impossible to hide your irritation as you grumble “Fine”. He leans forward, his eyes narrowing. "I'm sorry, what was that?" He asks. You stare for a second before quietly saying "Will do". "That's what I thought" – From that night on, Henry pulled away from you entirely. It wasn't immediate, more like he began to gradually draw inward. Instead of the expected ritual of going around the table to ask about each other's day, the dinner table steadily became silent. He began to spend more and more time in his office with the door shut. There was something almost surgical about it, as if he was attempting to remove you from his life like a cancerous mole. After graduating from high school, you exchanged the obligatory Christmas and Birthday phone calls. The calls turned into cards until, eventually, you stopped hearing from Henry entirely. [[Story Intro]]

''2 ITEM ENDING - SURVIVED - SS/WB'' The glass bottle clutched in your hands feels cool to the touch as you sneak back into your bedroom. Sitting on your bed, you study the bottle and wonder how old the dark green glass is. You tilt it slightly to better catch the light coming in through your window. Hearing a slight clinking sound you hold the bottle closer to your face, peering inside. You flinch in disgust when you realize teeth are floating in its murky liquid. You grab the shoe box from under your bed and drop the bottle next to the charred herb bundle already inside. Staring at the two items, your head begins to pound as you try to make sense of the past three days. You shut the lid on the shoebox and shove it into the back of your closet before climbing into bed. Laying back against your pillows, your racing thoughts are muffled by the fatigue of the past three nights. Sleep descends on you like a wave. – You open your eyes to a series of sharp knocks on your bedroom door. Startled by the sound, you quickly make your way into the dining room. Henry sits silently behind the morning paper and does not return your morning greetings. Taking your place in front of your breakfast, you notice absently that the eggs look a little over done but munch on them anyway. Henry continues to ignore your attempts to start a conversation, the silence only interrupted by the sound of the newspaper pages turning. – "Your Mom's getting home later tonight, make sure the dishes are done and your room's clean." The sudden sound of Henry's voice makes you jump. You slump down into your seat, exhaustion making it impossible to hide your irritation as you grumble “Fine”. He leans forward, his eyes narrowing. "I'm sorry, what was that?" He asks. You stare for a second before quietly saying "Will do". "That's what I thought" – From that night on, Henry pulled away from you entirely. It wasn't immediate, more like he began to gradually draw inward. Instead of the expected ritual of going around the table to ask about each other's day, the dinner table steadily became silent. He began to spend more and more time in his office with the door shut. There was something almost surgical about it, as if he was attempting to remove you from his life like a cancerous mole. After graduating from high school, you exchanged the obligatory Christmas and Birthday phone calls. The calls turned into cards until, eventually, you stopped hearing from Henry entirely. [[Story Intro]]

''3 ITEMS ENDING - CAUGHT'' A hand grabs the back of your shirt and yanks you onto the floor. Looking up into Henry’s furious eyes, you suddenly hope a hole opens up in the ground and swallows you. “I don’t know what the hell has gotten into you, and I don’t care. If I catch you out of bed one more time, you will regret it.” The words are a quiet hiss, the force behind them feeling like a weight pressing you into the floor. You nod frantically and crawl away from him, pulling yourself back onto shaking legs. – His glare bores into your back as you make a mad dash back to the safety of your bedroom, shutting the door quickly behind you. Leaning back, you slide onto the floor with your heart hammering against your chest. You can feel the impact of Henry’s own door slamming further up the hall. The increased distance, and two closed doors, brings you a small sense of relief. You wait for a few minutes before crawling over to your bed and pulling out the shoebox. Starting down at its contents, you feel your head begin to pound. All three of these items feel…wrong, somehow. Exhaustion makes your eyes burn and the combined fatigue of the past few days hits you all at once. You shove the lid back on the box and slide it into the back of your closet before crawling into bed and falling asleep almost at once. – “GET. UP!” The shouted words are accompanied by four slamming knocks on your door the next morning. You bolt upright and the headache from the previous night crashes into your skull with each bang. Dragging yourself from the bed, you cautiously open the door to see Henry’s face set in a furious sneer. – “Your Mom is getting back tonight, and I expect this house to be spotless by then. I think you’ve gotten a little too comfortable, and I’m sick of your piss poor attitude.” The quiet fury in his words stun you into silence as you stare at him. He narrows his eyes and leans down into your face. “Got me?” He practically spits the words at you and you lean away from him nodding. “Good.” He turns around and heads in the direction of his office. “Oh, and you’re grounded”, he yells over his shoulder before yanking the door shut. – The thick cloud of rage that had settled over the house after that night never fully lifted and was made living with Henry almost suffocating. It was like a switch had flipped somewhere inside him. Nothing you did from that point on was good enough for Henry; your grades were too low, your chores needed to be redone - the RIGHT way, there was always something wrong with your ‘tone of voice’. You started doing your best to avoid Henry, rather than fight a losing battle. [[Story Intro]]

''3 ITEM ENDING - CAUGHT - RC/SB/CD'' A hand grabs the back of your shirt and yanks you onto the floor. Looking up into Henry’s furious eyes you shove the doll into the back of your pants, suddenly wishing for a hole to open up in the ground and swallow you. “I don’t know what the hell has gotten into you, and I don’t care. If I catch you out of bed one more time, you will regret it.” The words are a quiet hiss, the force behind them feeling like a weight pressing you into the floor. You nod frantically and pull yourself up onto shaking legs. His glare bores into your back as you make a mad dash back to the safety of your bedroom, shutting the door quickly behind you. – Leaning back, you slide onto the floor feeling the rough fibers of the doll bite into your lower back as your heart hammers against your chest. You can feel the impact of Henry’s own door slamming further up the hall. The increased distance, and two closed doors, brings you a small sense of relief. You wait for a few minutes before crawling over to your bed, pulling out the shoebox and the doll. Turning the doll over in your hand, you see it’s made of dried corn husks with string tied together to create the head and hands. There’s a strip of torn fabric wrapped around the middle to create the waist. With a mild sense of alarm, you realize that the fabric is a piece of an old sweatshirt you thought you'd donated weeks ago. You drop the doll into the box on top of the candles and drawstring bag already inside. Staring into the box you can’t help but feel like the three items are staring back at you, mockingly. – Exhaustion makes your eyes burn and the combined fatigue of the past few days hits you all at once. You shove the lid back on the box in frustration and slide it into the back of your closet before crawling into bed, falling asleep almost at once. Your dreams are plagued with images of Tyler’s gap tooth face, his head sitting atop a corn husk body. Above you, somewhere in the dark, salt is raining down into your eyes. As you struggle and try to scream he grabs a black candle, turning it slightly to let the hot wax drip down your throat. – “GET. UP!” The shouted words are accompanied by four slamming knocks on your door the next morning, dragging you out of your nightmare just as Tyler’s small teeth were being plunged into your neck. You bolt upright, the relief at being woken up immediately replaced with a sense of dread. Dragging yourself from the bed, you cautiously open the door to see Henry’s face set in a furious sneer. – “Your Mom is getting back tonight, and I expect this house to be spotless by then. I think you’ve gotten a little too comfortable, and I’m sick of your piss poor attitude.” The quiet fury in his words stun you into silence as you stare at him. He narrows his eyes and leans down into your face. “Got me?” He practically spits the words at you and you lean away from him nodding. “Good.” He turns around and heads in the direction of his office. “Oh, and you’re grounded”, he yells over his shoulder before yanking the door shut. – They never did find Tyler, dead or alive, and it took weeks for the nightmares to subside. The thick cloud of rage that had settled over the house after that night never fully lifted and was made living with Henry almost suffocating. It was like a switch had flipped somewhere inside him. Nothing you did from that point on was good enough for Henry; your grades were too low, your chores needed to be redone - the RIGHT way, there was always something wrong with your ‘tone of voice’. You started doing your best to avoid Henry, rather than fight a losing battle. [[Story Intro]]

''3 ITEM ENDING - CAUGHT - RC/SB/WB'' A hand grabs the back of your shirt and yanks you onto the floor. Looking up into Henry’s furious eyes you shove the bottle up your sleeve, suddenly wishing for a hole to open up in the ground and swallow you. “I don’t know what the hell has gotten into you, and I don’t care. If I catch you out of bed one more time, you will regret it.” The words are a quiet hiss, the force behind them feeling like a weight pressing you into the floor. You nod frantically and pull yourself up onto shaking legs. His glare bores into your back as you make a mad dash back to the safety of your bedroom, shutting the door quickly behind you. – Leaning back, you slide onto the floor feeling the weight of the bottle in your sleeve as your heart hammers against your chest. You can feel the impact of Henry’s own door slamming further up the hall. The increased distance, and two closed doors, brings you a small sense of relief. You wait for a few minutes before crawling over to your bed, pulling out the shoebox and the cool glass bottle. Trembling slightly, you look at the bottle clutched in your hands. You wonder how old the dark green glass is, tilting it slightly to better catch the light. Hearing a slight clinking sound you bring the bottle closer to your face, peering inside. You flinch in disgust when you realize teeth are floating inside the bottle's murky liquid. You drop the bottle into the box on top of the candles and drawstring bag already inside. Staring into the box you can’t help but feel like the three items are staring back at you, mockingly. – Exhaustion makes your eyes burn and the combined fatigue of the past few days hits you all at once. You shove the lid back on the box in frustration and slide it into the back of your closet before crawling into bed, falling asleep almost at once. Your dreams are plagued with images of Tyler’s gap tooth face. Above you, somewhere in the dark, salt is raining down into your eyes. As you struggle and try to scream he grabs a black candle, turning it slightly to let the hot wax drip down your throat. – “GET. UP!” The shouted words are accompanied by four slamming knocks on your door the next morning, dragging you out of your nightmare. The rest of Tyler’s teeth had just begun to fall out, sticking to the wax inside your throat. You bolt upright, the relief at being woken up immediately replaced with a sense of dread. Dragging yourself from the bed, you cautiously open the door to see Henry’s face set in a furious sneer. – “Your Mom is getting back tonight, and I expect this house to be spotless by then. I think you’ve gotten a little too comfortable, and I’m sick of your piss poor attitude.” The quiet fury in his words stun you into silence as you stare at him. He narrows his eyes and leans down into your face. “Got me?” He practically spits the words at you and you lean away from him nodding. “Good.” He turns around and heads in the direction of his office. “Oh, and you’re grounded”, he yells over his shoulder before yanking the door shut. – They never did find Tyler, dead or alive, and it took weeks for the nightmares to subside. The thick cloud of rage that had settled over the house after that night never fully lifted and was made living with Henry almost suffocating. It was like a switch had flipped somewhere inside him. Nothing you did from that point on was good enough for Henry; your grades were too low, your chores needed to be redone - the RIGHT way, there was always something wrong with your ‘tone of voice’. You started doing your best to avoid Henry, rather than fight a losing battle. [[Story Intro]]

''3 ITEM ENDING - CAUGHT - RC/SM/CD'' A hand grabs the back of your shirt and yanks you onto the floor. Looking up into Henry’s furious eyes you shove the doll into the back of your pants, suddenly wishing for a hole to open up in the ground and swallow you. “I don’t know what the hell has gotten into you, and I don’t care. If I catch you out of bed one more time, you will regret it.” The words are a quiet hiss, the force behind them feeling like a weight pressing you into the floor. You nod frantically and pull yourself up onto shaking legs. His glare bores into your back as you make a mad dash back to the safety of your bedroom, shutting the door quickly behind you. – Leaning back, you slide onto the floor feeling the rough fibers of the doll bite into your lower back as your heart hammers against your chest. You can feel the impact of Henry’s own door slamming further up the hall. The increased distance, and two closed doors, brings you a small sense of relief. You wait for a few minutes before crawling over to your bed, pulling out the shoebox and the doll. Turning the doll over in your hand, you see it’s made of dried corn husks with string tied together to create the head and hands. There’s a strip of torn fabric wrapped around the middle to create the waist. – With a mild sense of alarm, you realize that the fabric is a piece of an old sweatshirt you thought you'd donated weeks ago. You drop the doll into the box on top of the candles and folded sheet music already inside. Exhaustion makes your eyes burn and the combined fatigue of the past few days hits you all at once. You shove the lid back on the box in frustration and slide it into the back of your closet before crawling into bed, falling asleep almost at once. – “GET. UP!” The shouted words are accompanied by four slamming knocks on your door the next morning. You bolt upright and the headache from the previous night crashes into your skull with each bang. Dragging yourself from the bed, you cautiously open the door to see Henry’s face set in a furious sneer. – “Your Mom is getting back tonight, and I expect this house to be spotless by then. I think you’ve gotten a little too comfortable, and I’m sick of your piss poor attitude.” The quiet fury in his words stun you into silence as you stare at him. He narrows his eyes and leans down into your face. “Got me?” He practically spits the words at you and you lean away from him nodding. “Good.” He turns around and heads in the direction of his office. “Oh, and you’re grounded”, he yells over his shoulder before yanking the door shut. – The thick cloud of rage that had settled over the house after that night never fully lifted and was made living with Henry almost suffocating. It was like a switch had flipped somewhere inside him. Nothing you did from that point on was good enough for Henry; your grades were too low, your chores needed to be redone - the RIGHT way, there was always something wrong with your ‘tone of voice’. You started doing your best to avoid Henry, rather than fight a losing battle. [[Story Intro]]

''3 ITEM ENDING - CAUGHT - RC/SM/WB'' A hand grabs the back of your shirt and yanks you onto the floor. Looking up into Henry’s furious eyes you shove the bottle up your sleeve, suddenly wishing for a hole to open up in the ground and swallow you. “I don’t know what the hell has gotten into you, and I don’t care. If I catch you out of bed one more time, you will regret it.” The words are a quiet hiss, the force behind them feeling like a weight pressing you into the floor. You nod frantically and pull yourself up onto shaking legs. His glare bores into your back as you make a mad dash back to the safety of your bedroom, shutting the door quickly behind you. – Leaning back, you slide onto the floor feeling the weight of the bottle in your sleeve as your heart hammers against your chest. You can feel the impact of Henry’s own door slamming further up the hall. The increased distance, and two closed doors, brings you a small sense of relief. You wait for a few minutes before crawling over to your bed, pulling out the shoebox and the cool glass bottle. Trembling slightly, you look at the bottle clutched in your hands. You wonder how old the dark green glass is, tilting it slightly to better catch the light. Hearing a slight clinking sound you bring the bottle closer to your face, peering inside. – You flinch in disgust when you realize teeth are floating inside the bottle's murky liquid. You drop the bottle into the box on top of the candles and folded sheet music already inside. Staring into the box you can’t help but feel like the three items are staring back at you, mockingly. Exhaustion makes your eyes burn and the combined fatigue of the past few days hits you all at once. You shove the lid back on the box in frustration and slide it into the back of your closet before crawling into bed, falling asleep almost at once. – “GET. UP!” The shouted words are accompanied by four slamming knocks on your door the next morning, dragging you out of your nightmare. The rest of Tyler’s teeth had just begun to fall out, sticking to the wax inside your throat. You bolt upright, the relief at being woken up immediately replaced with a sense of dread. Dragging yourself from the bed, you cautiously open the door to see Henry’s face set in a furious sneer. – “Your Mom is getting back tonight, and I expect this house to be spotless by then. I think you’ve gotten a little too comfortable, and I’m sick of your piss poor attitude.” The quiet fury in his words stun you into silence as you stare at him. He narrows his eyes and leans down into your face. “Got me?” He practically spits the words at you and you lean away from him nodding. “Good.” He turns around and heads in the direction of his office. “Oh, and you’re grounded”, he yells over his shoulder before yanking the door shut. – The thick cloud of rage that had settled over the house after that night never fully lifted and was made living with Henry almost suffocating. It was like a switch had flipped somewhere inside him. Nothing you did from that point on was good enough for Henry; your grades were too low, your chores needed to be redone - the RIGHT way, there was always something wrong with your ‘tone of voice’. You started doing your best to avoid Henry, rather than fight a losing battle. [[Story Intro]]

''3 ITEM ENDING - CAUGHT - RC/SS/CD'' A hand grabs the back of your shirt and yanks you onto the floor. Looking up into Henry’s furious eyes you shove the doll into the back of your pants, suddenly wishing for a hole to open up in the ground and swallow you. “I don’t know what the hell has gotten into you, and I don’t care. If I catch you out of bed one more time, you will regret it.” The words are a quiet hiss, the force behind them feeling like a weight pressing you into the floor. You nod frantically and pull yourself up onto shaking legs. His glare bores into your back as you make a mad dash back to the safety of your bedroom, shutting the door quickly behind you. – Leaning back, you slide onto the floor feeling the rough fibers of the doll bite into your lower back as your heart hammers against your chest. You can feel the impact of Henry’s own door slamming further up the hall. The increased distance, and two closed doors, brings you a small sense of relief. You wait for a few minutes before crawling over to your bed, pulling out the shoebox and the doll. Turning the doll over in your hand, you see it’s made of dried corn husks with string tied together to create the head and hands. There’s a strip of torn fabric wrapped around the middle to create the waist. – With a mild sense of alarm, you realize that the fabric is a piece of an old sweatshirt you thought you'd donated weeks ago. You drop the doll into the box on top of the candles and charred herb bundle already inside. Exhaustion makes your eyes burn and the combined fatigue of the past few days hits you all at once. You shove the lid back on the box in frustration and slide it into the back of your closet before crawling into bed, falling asleep almost at once. – “GET. UP!” The shouted words are accompanied by four slamming knocks on your door the next morning. You bolt upright and the headache from the previous night crashes into your skull with each bang. Dragging yourself from the bed, you cautiously open the door to see Henry’s face set in a furious sneer. – “Your Mom is getting back tonight, and I expect this house to be spotless by then. I think you’ve gotten a little too comfortable, and I’m sick of your piss poor attitude.” The quiet fury in his words stun you into silence as you stare at him. He narrows his eyes and leans down into your face. “Got me?” He practically spits the words at you and you lean away from him nodding. “Good.” He turns around and heads in the direction of his office. “Oh, and you’re grounded”, he yells over his shoulder before yanking the door shut. – The thick cloud of rage that had settled over the house after that night never fully lifted and was made living with Henry almost suffocating. It was like a switch had flipped somewhere inside him. Nothing you did from that point on was good enough for Henry; your grades were too low, your chores needed to be redone - the RIGHT way, there was always something wrong with your ‘tone of voice’. You started doing your best to avoid Henry, rather than fight a losing battle. [[Story Intro]]

''3 ITEM ENDING - CAUGHT - RC/SS/WB'' A hand grabs the back of your shirt and yanks you onto the floor. Looking up into Henry’s furious eyes you shove the bottle up your sleeve, suddenly wishing for a hole to open up in the ground and swallow you. “I don’t know what the hell has gotten into you, and I don’t care. If I catch you out of bed one more time, you will regret it.” The words are a quiet hiss, the force behind them feeling like a weight pressing you into the floor. You nod frantically and pull yourself up onto shaking legs. His glare bores into your back as you make a mad dash back to the safety of your bedroom, shutting the door quickly behind you. – Leaning back, you slide onto the floor feeling the weight of the bottle in your sleeve as your heart hammers against your chest. You can feel the impact of Henry’s own door slamming further up the hall. The increased distance, and two closed doors, brings you a small sense of relief. You wait for a few minutes before crawling over to your bed, pulling out the shoebox and the cool glass bottle. Trembling slightly, you look at the bottle clutched in your hands. You wonder how old the dark green glass is, tilting it slightly to better catch the light. Hearing a slight clinking sound you bring the bottle closer to your face, peering inside. – You flinch in disgust when you realize teeth are floating inside the bottle's murky liquid. You drop the bottle into the box on top of the candles and charred herb bundle already inside. Staring into the box you can’t help but feel like the three items are staring back at you, mockingly. Exhaustion makes your eyes burn and the combined fatigue of the past few days hits you all at once. You shove the lid back on the box in frustration and slide it into the back of your closet before crawling into bed, falling asleep almost at once. – “GET. UP!” The shouted words are accompanied by four slamming knocks on your door the next morning, dragging you out of your nightmare. The rest of Tyler’s teeth had just begun to fall out, sticking to the wax inside your throat. You bolt upright, the relief at being woken up immediately replaced with a sense of dread. Dragging yourself from the bed, you cautiously open the door to see Henry’s face set in a furious sneer. – “Your Mom is getting back tonight, and I expect this house to be spotless by then. I think you’ve gotten a little too comfortable, and I’m sick of your piss poor attitude.” The quiet fury in his words stun you into silence as you stare at him. He narrows his eyes and leans down into your face. “Got me?” He practically spits the words at you and you lean away from him nodding. “Good.” He turns around and heads in the direction of his office. “Oh, and you’re grounded”, he yells over his shoulder before yanking the door shut. – The thick cloud of rage that had settled over the house after that night never fully lifted and was made living with Henry almost suffocating. It was like a switch had flipped somewhere inside him. Nothing you did from that point on was good enough for Henry; your grades were too low, your chores needed to be redone - the RIGHT way, there was always something wrong with your ‘tone of voice’. You started doing your best to avoid Henry, rather than fight a losing battle. [[Story Intro]]

''3 ITEM ENDING - CAUGHT - SB/SM/CD'' A hand grabs the back of your shirt and yanks you onto the floor. Looking up into Henry’s furious eyes you shove the doll into the back of your pants, suddenly wishing for a hole to open up in the ground and swallow you. “I don’t know what the hell has gotten into you, and I don’t care. If I catch you out of bed one more time, you will regret it.” The words are a quiet hiss, the force behind them feeling like a weight pressing you into the floor. You nod frantically and pull yourself up onto shaking legs. His glare bores into your back as you make a mad dash back to the safety of your bedroom, shutting the door quickly behind you. – Leaning back, you slide onto the floor feeling the rough fibers of the doll bite into your lower back as your heart hammers against your chest. You can feel the impact of Henry’s own door slamming further up the hall. The increased distance, and two closed doors, brings you a small sense of relief. You wait for a few minutes before crawling over to your bed, pulling out the shoebox and the doll. Turning the doll over in your hand, you see it’s made of dried corn husks with string tied together to create the head and hands. There’s a strip of torn fabric wrapped around the middle to create the waist. – With a mild sense of alarm, you realize that the fabric is a piece of an old sweatshirt you thought you'd donated weeks ago. You drop the doll into the box on top of the drawstring bag and folded sheet music already inside. Exhaustion makes your eyes burn and the combined fatigue of the past few days hits you all at once. You shove the lid back on the box in frustration and slide it into the back of your closet before crawling into bed, falling asleep almost at once. – “GET. UP!” The shouted words are accompanied by four slamming knocks on your door the next morning. You bolt upright and the headache from the previous night crashes into your skull with each bang. Dragging yourself from the bed, you cautiously open the door to see Henry’s face set in a furious sneer. – “Your Mom is getting back tonight, and I expect this house to be spotless by then. I think you’ve gotten a little too comfortable, and I’m sick of your piss poor attitude.” The quiet fury in his words stun you into silence as you stare at him. He narrows his eyes and leans down into your face. “Got me?” He practically spits the words at you and you lean away from him nodding. “Good.” He turns around and heads in the direction of his office. “Oh, and you’re grounded”, he yells over his shoulder before yanking the door shut. – The thick cloud of rage that had settled over the house after that night never fully lifted and was made living with Henry almost suffocating. It was like a switch had flipped somewhere inside him. Nothing you did from that point on was good enough for Henry; your grades were too low, your chores needed to be redone - the RIGHT way, there was always something wrong with your ‘tone of voice’. You started doing your best to avoid Henry, rather than fight a losing battle. [[Story Intro]]

''3 ITEM ENDING - CAUGHT - SB/SM/WB'' A hand grabs the back of your shirt and yanks you onto the floor. Looking up into Henry’s furious eyes you shove the bottle up your sleeve, suddenly wishing for a hole to open up in the ground and swallow you. “I don’t know what the hell has gotten into you, and I don’t care. If I catch you out of bed one more time, you will regret it.” The words are a quiet hiss, the force behind them feeling like a weight pressing you into the floor. You nod frantically and pull yourself up onto shaking legs. His glare bores into your back as you make a mad dash back to the safety of your bedroom, shutting the door quickly behind you. – Leaning back, you slide onto the floor feeling the weight of the bottle in your sleeve as your heart hammers against your chest. You can feel the impact of Henry’s own door slamming further up the hall. The increased distance, and two closed doors, brings you a small sense of relief. You wait for a few minutes before crawling over to your bed, pulling out the shoebox and the cool glass bottle. Trembling slightly, you look at the bottle clutched in your hands. You wonder how old the dark green glass is, tilting it slightly to better catch the light. Hearing a slight clinking sound you bring the bottle closer to your face, peering inside. – You flinch in disgust when you realize teeth are floating inside the bottle's murky liquid. You drop the bottle into the box on top of the drawstring bag and folded sheet music already inside. Staring into the box you can’t help but feel like the three items are staring back at you, mockingly. Exhaustion makes your eyes burn and the combined fatigue of the past few days hits you all at once. You shove the lid back on the box in frustration and slide it into the back of your closet before crawling into bed, falling asleep almost at once. – “GET. UP!” The shouted words are accompanied by four slamming knocks on your door the next morning, dragging you out of your nightmare. The rest of Tyler’s teeth had just begun to fall out, sticking to the wax inside your throat. You bolt upright, the relief at being woken up immediately replaced with a sense of dread. Dragging yourself from the bed, you cautiously open the door to see Henry’s face set in a furious sneer. – “Your Mom is getting back tonight, and I expect this house to be spotless by then. I think you’ve gotten a little too comfortable, and I’m sick of your piss poor attitude.” The quiet fury in his words stun you into silence as you stare at him. He narrows his eyes and leans down into your face. “Got me?” He practically spits the words at you and you lean away from him nodding. “Good.” He turns around and heads in the direction of his office. “Oh, and you’re grounded”, he yells over his shoulder before yanking the door shut. – The thick cloud of rage that had settled over the house after that night never fully lifted and was made living with Henry almost suffocating. It was like a switch had flipped somewhere inside him. Nothing you did from that point on was good enough for Henry; your grades were too low, your chores needed to be redone - the RIGHT way, there was always something wrong with your ‘tone of voice’. You started doing your best to avoid Henry, rather than fight a losing battle. [[Story Intro]]

''3 ITEM ENDING - CAUGHT - SB/SS/CD'' A hand grabs the back of your shirt and yanks you onto the floor. Looking up into Henry’s furious eyes you shove the doll into the back of your pants, suddenly wishing for a hole to open up in the ground and swallow you. “I don’t know what the hell has gotten into you, and I don’t care. If I catch you out of bed one more time, you will regret it.” The words are a quiet hiss, the force behind them feeling like a weight pressing you into the floor. You nod frantically and pull yourself up onto shaking legs. His glare bores into your back as you make a mad dash back to the safety of your bedroom, shutting the door quickly behind you. – Leaning back, you slide onto the floor feeling the rough fibers of the doll bite into your lower back as your heart hammers against your chest. You can feel the impact of Henry’s own door slamming further up the hall. The increased distance, and two closed doors, brings you a small sense of relief. You wait for a few minutes before crawling over to your bed, pulling out the shoebox and the doll. Turning the doll over in your hand, you see it’s made of dried corn husks with string tied together to create the head and hands. There’s a strip of torn fabric wrapped around the middle to create the waist. – With a mild sense of alarm, you realize that the fabric is a piece of an old sweatshirt you thought you'd donated weeks ago. You drop the doll into the box on top of the drawstring bag and charred herb bundle already inside. Exhaustion makes your eyes burn and the combined fatigue of the past few days hits you all at once. You shove the lid back on the box in frustration and slide it into the back of your closet before crawling into bed, falling asleep almost at once. – “GET. UP!” The shouted words are accompanied by four slamming knocks on your door the next morning. You bolt upright and the headache from the previous night crashes into your skull with each bang. Dragging yourself from the bed, you cautiously open the door to see Henry’s face set in a furious sneer. – “Your Mom is getting back tonight, and I expect this house to be spotless by then. I think you’ve gotten a little too comfortable, and I’m sick of your piss poor attitude.” The quiet fury in his words stun you into silence as you stare at him. He narrows his eyes and leans down into your face. “Got me?” He practically spits the words at you and you lean away from him nodding. “Good.” He turns around and heads in the direction of his office. “Oh, and you’re grounded”, he yells over his shoulder before yanking the door shut. – The thick cloud of rage that had settled over the house after that night never fully lifted and was made living with Henry almost suffocating. It was like a switch had flipped somewhere inside him. Nothing you did from that point on was good enough for Henry; your grades were too low, your chores needed to be redone - the RIGHT way, there was always something wrong with your ‘tone of voice’. You started doing your best to avoid Henry, rather than fight a losing battle. [[Story Intro]]

''3 ITEM ENDING - CAUGHT - SB/SS/WB'' A hand grabs the back of your shirt and yanks you onto the floor. Looking up into Henry’s furious eyes you shove the bottle up your sleeve, suddenly wishing for a hole to open up in the ground and swallow you. “I don’t know what the hell has gotten into you, and I don’t care. If I catch you out of bed one more time, you will regret it.” The words are a quiet hiss, the force behind them feeling like a weight pressing you into the floor. You nod frantically and pull yourself up onto shaking legs. His glare bores into your back as you make a mad dash back to the safety of your bedroom, shutting the door quickly behind you. – Leaning back, you slide onto the floor feeling the weight of the bottle in your sleeve as your heart hammers against your chest. You can feel the impact of Henry’s own door slamming further up the hall. The increased distance, and two closed doors, brings you a small sense of relief. You wait for a few minutes before crawling over to your bed, pulling out the shoebox and the cool glass bottle. Trembling slightly, you look at the bottle clutched in your hands. You wonder how old the dark green glass is, tilting it slightly to better catch the light. Hearing a slight clinking sound you bring the bottle closer to your face, peering inside. – You flinch in disgust when you realize teeth are floating inside the bottle's murky liquid. You drop the bottle into the box on top of the drawstring bag and charred herb bundle already inside. Staring into the box you can’t help but feel like the three items are staring back at you, mockingly. Exhaustion makes your eyes burn and the combined fatigue of the past few days hits you all at once. You shove the lid back on the box in frustration and slide it into the back of your closet before crawling into bed, falling asleep almost at once. – “GET. UP!” The shouted words are accompanied by four slamming knocks on your door the next morning, dragging you out of your nightmare. The rest of Tyler’s teeth had just begun to fall out, sticking to the wax inside your throat. You bolt upright, the relief at being woken up immediately replaced with a sense of dread. Dragging yourself from the bed, you cautiously open the door to see Henry’s face set in a furious sneer. – “Your Mom is getting back tonight, and I expect this house to be spotless by then. I think you’ve gotten a little too comfortable, and I’m sick of your piss poor attitude.” The quiet fury in his words stun you into silence as you stare at him. He narrows his eyes and leans down into your face. “Got me?” He practically spits the words at you and you lean away from him nodding. “Good.” He turns around and heads in the direction of his office. “Oh, and you’re grounded”, he yells over his shoulder before yanking the door shut. – The thick cloud of rage that had settled over the house after that night never fully lifted and was made living with Henry almost suffocating. It was like a switch had flipped somewhere inside him. Nothing you did from that point on was good enough for Henry; your grades were too low, your chores needed to be redone - the RIGHT way, there was always something wrong with your ‘tone of voice’. You started doing your best to avoid Henry, rather than fight a losing battle. [[Story Intro]]

''3 ITEM ENDING - CAUGHT - SM/SS/CD'' A hand grabs the back of your shirt and yanks you onto the floor. Looking up into Henry’s furious eyes you shove the bottle up your sleeve, suddenly wishing for a hole to open up in the ground and swallow you. “I don’t know what the hell has gotten into you, and I don’t care. If I catch you out of bed one more time, you will regret it.” The words are a quiet hiss, the force behind them feeling like a weight pressing you into the floor. You nod frantically and pull yourself up onto shaking legs. His glare bores into your back as you make a mad dash back to the safety of your bedroom, shutting the door quickly behind you. – Leaning back, you slide onto the floor feeling the weight of the bottle in your sleeve as your heart hammers against your chest. You can feel the impact of Henry’s own door slamming further up the hall. The increased distance, and two closed doors, brings you a small sense of relief. You wait for a few minutes before crawling over to your bed, pulling out the shoebox and the cool glass bottle. Trembling slightly, you look at the bottle clutched in your hands. You wonder how old the dark green glass is, tilting it slightly to better catch the light. Hearing a slight clinking sound you bring the bottle closer to your face, peering inside. – You flinch in disgust when you realize teeth are floating inside the bottle's murky liquid. You drop the bottle into the box on top of the folded sheet music and charred herb bundle already inside. Staring into the box you can’t help but feel like the three items are staring back at you, mockingly. Exhaustion makes your eyes burn and the combined fatigue of the past few days hits you all at once. You shove the lid back on the box in frustration and slide it into the back of your closet before crawling into bed, falling asleep almost at once. – “GET. UP!” The shouted words are accompanied by four slamming knocks on your door the next morning, dragging you out of your nightmare. The rest of Tyler’s teeth had just begun to fall out, sticking to the wax inside your throat. You bolt upright, the relief at being woken up immediately replaced with a sense of dread. Dragging yourself from the bed, you cautiously open the door to see Henry’s face set in a furious sneer. – “Your Mom is getting back tonight, and I expect this house to be spotless by then. I think you’ve gotten a little too comfortable, and I’m sick of your piss poor attitude.” The quiet fury in his words stun you into silence as you stare at him. He narrows his eyes and leans down into your face. “Got me?” He practically spits the words at you and you lean away from him nodding. “Good.” He turns around and heads in the direction of his office. “Oh, and you’re grounded”, he yells over his shoulder before yanking the door shut. – The thick cloud of rage that had settled over the house after that night never fully lifted and was made living with Henry almost suffocating. It was like a switch had flipped somewhere inside him. Nothing you did from that point on was good enough for Henry; your grades were too low, your chores needed to be redone - the RIGHT way, there was always something wrong with your ‘tone of voice’. You started doing your best to avoid Henry, rather than fight a losing battle. [[Story Intro]]

''3 ITEM ENDING - CAUGHT - SM/SS/WB'' A hand grabs the back of your shirt and yanks you onto the floor. Looking up into Henry’s furious eyes you shove the bottle up your sleeve, suddenly wishing for a hole to open up in the ground and swallow you. “I don’t know what the hell has gotten into you, and I don’t care. If I catch you out of bed one more time, you will regret it.” The words are a quiet hiss, the force behind them feeling like a weight pressing you into the floor. You nod frantically and pull yourself up onto shaking legs. His glare bores into your back as you make a mad dash back to the safety of your bedroom, shutting the door quickly behind you. – Leaning back, you slide onto the floor feeling the weight of the bottle in your sleeve as your heart hammers against your chest. You can feel the impact of Henry’s own door slamming further up the hall. The increased distance, and two closed doors, brings you a small sense of relief. You wait for a few minutes before crawling over to your bed, pulling out the shoebox and the cool glass bottle. Trembling slightly, you look at the bottle clutched in your hands. You wonder how old the dark green glass is, tilting it slightly to better catch the light. Hearing a slight clinking sound you bring the bottle closer to your face, peering inside. – You flinch in disgust when you realize teeth are floating inside the bottle's murky liquid. You drop the bottle into the box on top of the folded sheet music and charred herb bundle already inside. Staring into the box you can’t help but feel like the three items are staring back at you, mockingly. Exhaustion makes your eyes burn and the combined fatigue of the past few days hits you all at once. You shove the lid back on the box in frustration and slide it into the back of your closet before crawling into bed, falling asleep almost at once. – “GET. UP!” The shouted words are accompanied by four slamming knocks on your door the next morning, dragging you out of your nightmare. The rest of Tyler’s teeth had just begun to fall out, sticking to the wax inside your throat. You bolt upright, the relief at being woken up immediately replaced with a sense of dread. Dragging yourself from the bed, you cautiously open the door to see Henry’s face set in a furious sneer. – “Your Mom is getting back tonight, and I expect this house to be spotless by then. I think you’ve gotten a little too comfortable, and I’m sick of your piss poor attitude.” The quiet fury in his words stun you into silence as you stare at him. He narrows his eyes and leans down into your face. “Got me?” He practically spits the words at you and you lean away from him nodding. “Good.” He turns around and heads in the direction of his office. “Oh, and you’re grounded”, he yells over his shoulder before yanking the door shut. – The thick cloud of rage that had settled over the house after that night never fully lifted and was made living with Henry almost suffocating. It was like a switch had flipped somewhere inside him. Nothing you did from that point on was good enough for Henry; your grades were too low, your chores needed to be redone - the RIGHT way, there was always something wrong with your ‘tone of voice’. You started doing your best to avoid Henry, rather than fight a losing battle. [[Story Intro]]

''3 ITEM ENDING - RC/WB/CD'' Sitting on your bedroom floor with the open shoe box holding the black candles, you pull out the bottle and dried corn doll from your pockets to give them a closer look. Trembling slightly, you look at the bottle clutched in your hands. You wonder how old the dark green glass is, tilting it slightly to better catch the light. Hearing a slight clinking sound you hold the bottle closer to your face, peering inside. You flinch in disgust when you realize teeth are floating inside the bottle's murky liquid, and quickly drop it into the box. – The rough fibers of the dried corn doll bite into your fingers as you pull it from your back pocket. Turning the doll over in your hand, you see it’s made of dried corn husks with string tied together to create the head and hands. There’s a strip of torn fabric wrapped around the middle to create the waste. With a mild sense of alarm, you realize that the fabric is a piece of an old sweatshirt you thought you'd donated weeks ago. You tuck the doll next to the bottle and candles, shutting the lid on the box before shoving it into the back of your closet before climbing into bed. Laying back against your pillows, your racing thoughts are muffled by the fatigue of the past three nights. Sleep descends on you like a wave. – “GET. UP.” Henry’s booming shouts through your bedroom door yanks you awake. Your heart starts pounding in your ears as you clamber out of bed to find Henry sitting at the dining table, coming up short at the sneering smile plastered across his face. He nods towards the kitchen, “I think it’s about time you start learning some respect and self reliance. I’m tired of you not pulling your weight around here.” – You start to reply, but Henry slams his fist into the table. “Not one word, I don’t want to hear one word out of you. If you want breakfast, make it yourself.” You flinch back at the vitriol in his voice and hurry into the kitchen. “Your Mom is getting back home tonight,” Henry’s voice follows you “This place had better be spotless by the time she’s back”. – The thick cloud of rage that had settled over the house after that night never fully lifted and was made living with Henry almost suffocating. It was like a switch had flipped somewhere inside him. Nothing you did from that point on was good enough for Henry; your grades were too low, your chores needed to be redone - the RIGHT way, there was always something wrong with your ‘tone of voice’. You started doing your best to avoid Henry, rather than fight a losing battle. [[Story Intro]]

''3 ITEMS ENDING - SURVIVED'' Sitting on your bedroom floor with the open shoe box, you can feel your head begin to pound. All three of these items feel…wrong, somehow. Exhaustion makes your eyes burn and the combined fatigue of the past few days hits you all at once. You press the lid back on the box and shove it into the back of your closet before crawling into bed and falling asleep almost at once. – “GET. UP.” Henry’s booming shouts through your bedroom door yanks you awake. Your heart starts pounding in your ears as you clamber out of bed to find Henry sitting at the dining table, coming up short at the sneering smile plastered across his face. He nods towards the kitchen, “I think it’s about time you start learning some respect and self reliance. I’m tired of you not pulling your weight around here.” You start to reply, but Henry slams his fist into the table. “Not one word, I don’t want to hear one word out of you. If you want breakfast, make it yourself.” You flinch back at the vitriol in his voice and hurry into the kitchen. “Your Mom is getting back home tonight,” Henry’s voice follows you “This place had better be spotless by the time she’s back”. – The thick cloud of rage that had settled over the house after that night never fully lifted and was made living with Henry almost suffocating. It was like a switch had flipped somewhere inside him. Nothing you did from that point on was good enough for Henry; your grades were too low, your chores needed to be redone - the RIGHT way, there was always something wrong with your ‘tone of voice’. You started doing your best to avoid Henry, rather than fight a losing battle. [[Story Intro]]

''3 ITEM ENDING - SURVIVED - RC/SB/CD'' Sitting on your bedroom floor with the open shoe box holding the black candles and bag of black salt, you pull out the dried corn doll from your pockets to give it a closer look. Turning the doll over in your hand, you see it’s made of dried corn husks with string tied together to create the head and hands. There’s a strip of torn fabric wrapped around the middle to create the waist. With a mild sense of alarm, you realize that the fabric is a piece of an old sweatshirt you thought you'd donated weeks ago. You drop the doll into the box on top of the candles and drawstring bag already inside. Staring into the box you can’t help but feel like the three items are staring back at you, mockingly. – Exhaustion makes your eyes burn and the combined fatigue of the past few days hits you all at once. You shove the lid back on the box in frustration and slide it into the back of your closet before crawling into bed, falling asleep almost at once. Your dreams are plagued with images of Tyler’s gap tooth face. Above you, somewhere in the dark, salt is raining down into your eyes. As you struggle and try to scream he grabs a black candle, turning it slightly to let the hot wax drip down your throat. – “GET. UP!” The shouted words are accompanied by four slamming knocks on your door the next morning, dragging you out of your nightmare. The rest of Tyler’s teeth had just begun to fall out, sticking to the wax inside your throat. You bolt upright, the relief at being woken up immediately replaced with a sense of dread.Your heart starts pounding in your ears as you clamber out of bed to find Henry sitting at the dining table, coming up short at the sneering smile plastered across his face. – He nods towards the kitchen, “I think it’s about time you start learning some respect and self reliance. I’m tired of you not pulling your weight around here.” You start to reply, but Henry slams his fist into the table. “Not one word, I don’t want to hear one word out of you. If you want breakfast, make it yourself.” You flinch back at the vitriol in his voice and hurry into the kitchen. “Your Mom is getting back home tonight,” Henry’s voice follows you “This place had better be spotless by the time she’s back”. – They never did find Tyler, dead or alive, and it took weeks for the nightmares to subside. The thick cloud of rage that had settled over the house after that night never fully lifted and was made living with Henry almost suffocating. It was like a switch had flipped somewhere inside him. Nothing you did from that point on was good enough for Henry; your grades were too low, your chores needed to be redone - the RIGHT way, there was always something wrong with your ‘tone of voice’. You started doing your best to avoid Henry, rather than fight a losing battle. [[Story Intro]]

''3 ITEM ENDING - SURVIVED - RC /SB/WB'' Sitting on your bedroom floor with the open shoe box holding the black candles and bag of black salt, you pull out the bottle out of your pocket. You wonder how old the dark green glass is, tilting it slightly to better catch the light. Hearing a slight clinking sound you bring the bottle closer to your face, peering inside. You flinch in disgust when you realize teeth are floating inside the bottle's murky liquid. You drop the bottle into the box on top of the candles and drawstring bag already inside. Staring into the box you can’t help but feel like the three items are staring back at you, mockingly. – Exhaustion makes your eyes burn and the combined fatigue of the past few days hits you all at once. You shove the lid back on the box in frustration and slide it into the back of your closet before crawling into bed, falling asleep almost at once. Your dreams are plagued with images of Tyler’s gap tooth face, his head sitting atop a corn husk body. Above you, somewhere in the dark, salt is raining down into your eyes. As you struggle and try to scream he grabs a black candle, turning it slightly to let the hot wax drip down your throat. – “GET. UP!” The shouted words are accompanied by four slamming knocks on your door the next morning, dragging you out of your nightmare just as Tyler’s small teeth were being plunged into your neck. You bolt upright, the relief at being woken up immediately replaced with a sense of dread. Your heart starts pounding in your ears as you clamber out of bed to find Henry sitting at the dining table, coming up short at the sneering smile plastered across his face. – He nods towards the kitchen, “I think it’s about time you start learning some respect and self reliance. I’m tired of you not pulling your weight around here.” You start to reply, but Henry slams his fist into the table. “Not one word, I don’t want to hear one word out of you. If you want breakfast, make it yourself.” You flinch back at the vitriol in his voice and hurry into the kitchen. “Your Mom is getting back home tonight,” Henry’s voice follows you “This place had better be spotless by the time she’s back”. – They never did find Tyler, dead or alive, and it took weeks for the nightmares to subside. The thick cloud of rage that had settled over the house after that night never fully lifted and was made living with Henry almost suffocating. It was like a switch had flipped somewhere inside him. Nothing you did from that point on was good enough for Henry; your grades were too low, your chores needed to be redone - the RIGHT way, there was always something wrong with your ‘tone of voice’. You started doing your best to avoid Henry, rather than fight a losing battle. [[Story Intro]]

''3 ITEM ENDING - SURVIVED - RC/SM/CD'' Sitting on your bedroom floor with the open shoe box, you feel the rough fibers of the doll bite into your fingers. Turning it over in your hand, you see it’s made of dried corn husks with string tied together to create the head and hands. There’s a strip of torn fabric wrapped around the middle to create the waist. With a mild sense of alarm, you realize that the fabric is a piece of an old sweatshirt you thought you'd donated weeks ago. You drop the doll into the box on top of the candles and folded sheet music already inside. Exhaustion makes your eyes burn and the combined fatigue of the past few days hits you all at once. You shove the lid back on the box in frustration and slide it into the back of your closet before crawling into bed, falling asleep almost at once. – “GET. UP.” Henry’s booming shouts through your bedroom door yanks you awake. Your heart starts pounding in your ears as you clamber out of bed to find Henry sitting at the dining table, coming up short at the sneering smile plastered across his face. He nods towards the kitchen, “I think it’s about time you start learning some respect and self reliance. I’m tired of you not pulling your weight around here.” – You start to reply, but Henry slams his fist into the table. “Not one word, I don’t want to hear one word out of you. If you want breakfast, make it yourself.” You flinch back at the vitriol in his voice and hurry into the kitchen. “Your Mom is getting back home tonight,” Henry’s voice follows you “This place had better be spotless by the time she’s back”. – The thick cloud of rage that had settled over the house after that night never fully lifted and was made living with Henry almost suffocating. It was like a switch had flipped somewhere inside him. Nothing you did from that point on was good enough for Henry; your grades were too low, your chores needed to be redone - the RIGHT way, there was always something wrong with your ‘tone of voice’. You started doing your best to avoid Henry, rather than fight a losing battle. [[Story Intro]]

''3 ITEM ENDING - SURVIVED - RC/SM/WB'' Sitting on your bedroom floor with the open shoe box holding the black candles and bag of black salt, you pull out the bottle out of your pocket. You wonder how old the dark green glass is, tilting it slightly to better catch the light. Hearing a slight clinking sound you bring the bottle closer to your face, peering inside. You flinch in disgust when you realize teeth are floating inside the bottle's murky liquid. You drop the bottle into the box on top of the candles and folded sheet music already inside. Staring into the box you can’t help but feel like the three items are staring back at you, mockingly. Exhaustion makes your eyes burn and the combined fatigue of the past few days hits you all at once. You shove the lid back on the box in frustration and slide it into the back of your closet before crawling into bed, falling asleep almost at once. – “GET. UP.” Henry’s booming shouts through your bedroom door yanks you awake. Your heart starts pounding in your ears as you clamber out of bed to find Henry sitting at the dining table, coming up short at the sneering smile plastered across his face. He nods towards the kitchen, “I think it’s about time you start learning some respect and self reliance. I’m tired of you not pulling your weight around here.” – You start to reply, but Henry slams his fist into the table. “Not one word, I don’t want to hear one word out of you. If you want breakfast, make it yourself.” You flinch back at the vitriol in his voice and hurry into the kitchen. “Your Mom is getting back home tonight,” Henry’s voice follows you “This place had better be spotless by the time she’s back”. – The thick cloud of rage that had settled over the house after that night never fully lifted and was made living with Henry almost suffocating. It was like a switch had flipped somewhere inside him. Nothing you did from that point on was good enough for Henry; your grades were too low, your chores needed to be redone - the RIGHT way, there was always something wrong with your ‘tone of voice’. You started doing your best to avoid Henry, rather than fight a losing battle. [[Story Intro]]

''3 ITEM ENDING - SURVIVED - RC/SS/CD'' Sitting on your bedroom floor with the open shoe box, you feel the rough fibers of the doll bite into your fingers. Turning it over in your hand, you see it’s made of dried corn husks with string tied together to create the head and hands. There’s a strip of torn fabric wrapped around the middle to create the waist. With a mild sense of alarm, you realize that the fabric is a piece of an old sweatshirt you thought you'd donated weeks ago. You drop the doll into the box on top of the candles and charred herb bundle already inside. Exhaustion makes your eyes burn and the combined fatigue of the past few days hits you all at once. You shove the lid back on the box in frustration and slide it into the back of your closet before crawling into bed, falling asleep almost at once. – “GET. UP.” Henry’s booming shouts through your bedroom door yanks you awake. Your heart starts pounding in your ears as you clamber out of bed to find Henry sitting at the dining table, coming up short at the sneering smile plastered across his face. He nods towards the kitchen, “I think it’s about time you start learning some respect and self reliance. I’m tired of you not pulling your weight around here.” – You start to reply, but Henry slams his fist into the table. “Not one word, I don’t want to hear one word out of you. If you want breakfast, make it yourself.” You flinch back at the vitriol in his voice and hurry into the kitchen. “Your Mom is getting back home tonight,” Henry’s voice follows you “This place had better be spotless by the time she’s back”. – The thick cloud of rage that had settled over the house after that night never fully lifted and was made living with Henry almost suffocating. It was like a switch had flipped somewhere inside him. Nothing you did from that point on was good enough for Henry; your grades were too low, your chores needed to be redone - the RIGHT way, there was always something wrong with your ‘tone of voice’. You started doing your best to avoid Henry, rather than fight a losing battle. [[Story Intro]]

''3 ITEM ENDING - SURVIVED - RC/SS/WB'' Sitting on your bedroom floor with the open shoe box holding the black candles and bag of black salt, you pull out the bottle out of your pocket. You wonder how old the dark green glass is, tilting it slightly to better catch the light. Hearing a slight clinking sound you bring the bottle closer to your face, peering inside. You flinch in disgust when you realize teeth are floating inside the bottle's murky liquid. You drop the bottle into the box on top of the candles and charred herb bundle already inside. Staring into the box you can’t help but feel like the three items are staring back at you, mockingly. Exhaustion makes your eyes burn and the combined fatigue of the past few days hits you all at once. You shove the lid back on the box in frustration and slide it into the back of your closet before crawling into bed, falling asleep almost at once. – “GET. UP.” Henry’s booming shouts through your bedroom door yanks you awake. Your heart starts pounding in your ears as you clamber out of bed to find Henry sitting at the dining table, coming up short at the sneering smile plastered across his face. He nods towards the kitchen, “I think it’s about time you start learning some respect and self reliance. I’m tired of you not pulling your weight around here.” – You start to reply, but Henry slams his fist into the table. “Not one word, I don’t want to hear one word out of you. If you want breakfast, make it yourself.” You flinch back at the vitriol in his voice and hurry into the kitchen. “Your Mom is getting back home tonight,” Henry’s voice follows you “This place had better be spotless by the time she’s back”. – The thick cloud of rage that had settled over the house after that night never fully lifted and was made living with Henry almost suffocating. It was like a switch had flipped somewhere inside him. Nothing you did from that point on was good enough for Henry; your grades were too low, your chores needed to be redone - the RIGHT way, there was always something wrong with your ‘tone of voice’. You started doing your best to avoid Henry, rather than fight a losing battle. [[Story Intro]]

''3 ITEM ENDING - SURVIVED - SB/SM/CD'' Sitting on your bedroom floor with the open shoe box, you feel the rough fibers of the doll bite into your fingers. Turning it over in your hand, you see it’s made of dried corn husks with string tied together to create the head and hands. There’s a strip of torn fabric wrapped around the middle to create the waist. With a mild sense of alarm, you realize that the fabric is a piece of an old sweatshirt you thought you'd donated weeks ago. You drop the doll into the box on top of the drawstring bag and folded sheet music already inside. Exhaustion makes your eyes burn and the combined fatigue of the past few days hits you all at once. You shove the lid back on the box in frustration and slide it into the back of your closet before crawling into bed, falling asleep almost at once. – “GET. UP.” Henry’s booming shouts through your bedroom door yanks you awake. Your heart starts pounding in your ears as you clamber out of bed to find Henry sitting at the dining table, coming up short at the sneering smile plastered across his face. He nods towards the kitchen, “I think it’s about time you start learning some respect and self reliance. I’m tired of you not pulling your weight around here.” – You start to reply, but Henry slams his fist into the table. “Not one word, I don’t want to hear one word out of you. If you want breakfast, make it yourself.” You flinch back at the vitriol in his voice and hurry into the kitchen. “Your Mom is getting back home tonight,” Henry’s voice follows you “This place had better be spotless by the time she’s back”. – The thick cloud of rage that had settled over the house after that night never fully lifted and was made living with Henry almost suffocating. It was like a switch had flipped somewhere inside him. Nothing you did from that point on was good enough for Henry; your grades were too low, your chores needed to be redone - the RIGHT way, there was always something wrong with your ‘tone of voice’. You started doing your best to avoid Henry, rather than fight a losing battle. [[Story Intro]]

''3 ITEM ENDING - SURVIVED - SB/SM/WB'' Sitting on your bedroom floor with the open shoe box holding the black candles and bag of black salt, you pull out the bottle out of your pocket. You wonder how old the dark green glass is, tilting it slightly to better catch the light. Hearing a slight clinking sound you bring the bottle closer to your face, peering inside. You flinch in disgust when you realize teeth are floating inside the bottle's murky liquid. You drop the bottle into the box on top of the drawstring bag and folded sheet music already inside. Staring into the box you can’t help but feel like the three items are staring back at you, mockingly. Exhaustion makes your eyes burn and the combined fatigue of the past few days hits you all at once. You shove the lid back on the box in frustration and slide it into the back of your closet before crawling into bed, falling asleep almost at once. – “GET. UP.” Henry’s booming shouts through your bedroom door yanks you awake. Your heart starts pounding in your ears as you clamber out of bed to find Henry sitting at the dining table, coming up short at the sneering smile plastered across his face. He nods towards the kitchen, “I think it’s about time you start learning some respect and self reliance. I’m tired of you not pulling your weight around here.” – You start to reply, but Henry slams his fist into the table. “Not one word, I don’t want to hear one word out of you. If you want breakfast, make it yourself.” You flinch back at the vitriol in his voice and hurry into the kitchen. “Your Mom is getting back home tonight,” Henry’s voice follows you “This place had better be spotless by the time she’s back”. – The thick cloud of rage that had settled over the house after that night never fully lifted and was made living with Henry almost suffocating. It was like a switch had flipped somewhere inside him. Nothing you did from that point on was good enough for Henry; your grades were too low, your chores needed to be redone - the RIGHT way, there was always something wrong with your ‘tone of voice’. You started doing your best to avoid Henry, rather than fight a losing battle. [[Story Intro]]

''3 ITEM ENDING - SURVIVED - SB/SS/CD'' Sitting on your bedroom floor with the open shoe box, you feel the rough fibers of the doll bite into your fingers. Turning it over in your hand, you see it’s made of dried corn husks with string tied together to create the head and hands. There’s a strip of torn fabric wrapped around the middle to create the waist. With a mild sense of alarm, you realize that the fabric is a piece of an old sweatshirt you thought you'd donated weeks ago. You drop the doll into the box on top of the drawstring bag and charred herb bundle already inside. Exhaustion makes your eyes burn and the combined fatigue of the past few days hits you all at once. You shove the lid back on the box in frustration and slide it into the back of your closet before crawling into bed, falling asleep almost at once. – “GET. UP.” Henry’s booming shouts through your bedroom door yanks you awake. Your heart starts pounding in your ears as you clamber out of bed to find Henry sitting at the dining table, coming up short at the sneering smile plastered across his face. He nods towards the kitchen, “I think it’s about time you start learning some respect and self reliance. I’m tired of you not pulling your weight around here.” – You start to reply, but Henry slams his fist into the table. “Not one word, I don’t want to hear one word out of you. If you want breakfast, make it yourself.” You flinch back at the vitriol in his voice and hurry into the kitchen. “Your Mom is getting back home tonight,” Henry’s voice follows you “This place had better be spotless by the time she’s back”. – The thick cloud of rage that had settled over the house after that night never fully lifted and was made living with Henry almost suffocating. It was like a switch had flipped somewhere inside him. Nothing you did from that point on was good enough for Henry; your grades were too low, your chores needed to be redone - the RIGHT way, there was always something wrong with your ‘tone of voice’. You started doing your best to avoid Henry, rather than fight a losing battle. [[Story Intro]]

''3 ITEM ENDING - SURVIVED - SB/SS/WB'' Sitting on your bedroom floor with the open shoe box holding the black candles and bag of black salt, you pull out the bottle out of your pocket. You wonder how old the dark green glass is, tilting it slightly to better catch the light. Hearing a slight clinking sound you bring the bottle closer to your face, peering inside. You flinch in disgust when you realize teeth are floating inside the bottle's murky liquid. You drop the bottle into the box on top of the drawstring bag and charred herb bundle already inside. Staring into the box you can’t help but feel like the three items are staring back at you, mockingly. Exhaustion makes your eyes burn and the combined fatigue of the past few days hits you all at once. You shove the lid back on the box in frustration and slide it into the back of your closet before crawling into bed, falling asleep almost at once. – “GET. UP.” Henry’s booming shouts through your bedroom door yanks you awake. Your heart starts pounding in your ears as you clamber out of bed to find Henry sitting at the dining table, coming up short at the sneering smile plastered across his face. He nods towards the kitchen, “I think it’s about time you start learning some respect and self reliance. I’m tired of you not pulling your weight around here.” – You start to reply, but Henry slams his fist into the table. “Not one word, I don’t want to hear one word out of you. If you want breakfast, make it yourself.” You flinch back at the vitriol in his voice and hurry into the kitchen. “Your Mom is getting back home tonight,” Henry’s voice follows you “This place had better be spotless by the time she’s back”. – The thick cloud of rage that had settled over the house after that night never fully lifted and was made living with Henry almost suffocating. It was like a switch had flipped somewhere inside him. Nothing you did from that point on was good enough for Henry; your grades were too low, your chores needed to be redone - the RIGHT way, there was always something wrong with your ‘tone of voice’. You started doing your best to avoid Henry, rather than fight a losing battle. [[Story Intro]]

''3 ITEM ENDING - SURVIVED - SM/SS/CD'' Sitting on your bedroom floor with the open shoe box, you feel the rough fibers of the doll bite into your fingers. Turning it over in your hand, you see it’s made of dried corn husks with string tied together to create the head and hands. There’s a strip of torn fabric wrapped around the middle to create the waist. With a mild sense of alarm, you realize that the fabric is a piece of an old sweatshirt you thought you'd donated weeks ago. You drop the doll into the box on top of the folded sheet music and charred herb bundle already inside. Exhaustion makes your eyes burn and the combined fatigue of the past few days hits you all at once. You shove the lid back on the box in frustration and slide it into the back of your closet before crawling into bed, falling asleep almost at once. – “GET. UP.” Henry’s booming shouts through your bedroom door yanks you awake. Your heart starts pounding in your ears as you clamber out of bed to find Henry sitting at the dining table, coming up short at the sneering smile plastered across his face. He nods towards the kitchen, “I think it’s about time you start learning some respect and self reliance. I’m tired of you not pulling your weight around here.” – You start to reply, but Henry slams his fist into the table. “Not one word, I don’t want to hear one word out of you. If you want breakfast, make it yourself.” You flinch back at the vitriol in his voice and hurry into the kitchen. “Your Mom is getting back home tonight,” Henry’s voice follows you “This place had better be spotless by the time she’s back”. – The thick cloud of rage that had settled over the house after that night never fully lifted and was made living with Henry almost suffocating. It was like a switch had flipped somewhere inside him. Nothing you did from that point on was good enough for Henry; your grades were too low, your chores needed to be redone - the RIGHT way, there was always something wrong with your ‘tone of voice’. You started doing your best to avoid Henry, rather than fight a losing battle. [[Story Intro]]

''3 ITEM ENDING - SURVIVED - SM/SS/WB'' Sitting on your bedroom floor with the open shoe box holding the black candles and bag of black salt, you pull out the bottle out of your pocket. You wonder how old the dark green glass is, tilting it slightly to better catch the light. Hearing a slight clinking sound you bring the bottle closer to your face, peering inside. You flinch in disgust when you realize teeth are floating inside the bottle's murky liquid. You drop the bottle into the box on top of the folded sheet music and charred herb bundle already inside. Staring into the box you can’t help but feel like the three items are staring back at you, mockingly. Exhaustion makes your eyes burn and the combined fatigue of the past few days hits you all at once. You shove the lid back on the box in frustration and slide it into the back of your closet before crawling into bed, falling asleep almost at once. – “GET. UP.” Henry’s booming shouts through your bedroom door yanks you awake. Your heart starts pounding in your ears as you clamber out of bed to find Henry sitting at the dining table, coming up short at the sneering smile plastered across his face. He nods towards the kitchen, “I think it’s about time you start learning some respect and self reliance. I’m tired of you not pulling your weight around here.” – You start to reply, but Henry slams his fist into the table. “Not one word, I don’t want to hear one word out of you. If you want breakfast, make it yourself.” You flinch back at the vitriol in his voice and hurry into the kitchen. “Your Mom is getting back home tonight,” Henry’s voice follows you “This place had better be spotless by the time she’s back”. – The thick cloud of rage that had settled over the house after that night never fully lifted and was made living with Henry almost suffocating. It was like a switch had flipped somewhere inside him. Nothing you did from that point on was good enough for Henry; your grades were too low, your chores needed to be redone - the RIGHT way, there was always something wrong with your ‘tone of voice’. You started doing your best to avoid Henry, rather than fight a losing battle. [[Story Intro]]

''3 ITEM ENDING - SB/WB/CD'' Sitting on your bedroom floor with the open shoe box holding the drawstring bag, you pull out the bottle and dried corn doll from your pockets to give them a closer look. Trembling slightly, you look at the bottle clutched in your hands. You wonder how old the dark green glass is, tilting it slightly to better catch the light. Hearing a slight clinking sound you hold the bottle closer to your face, peering inside. You flinch in disgust when you realize teeth are floating inside the bottle's murky liquid, and quickly drop it into the box. – The rough fibers of the dried corn doll bite into your fingers as you pull it from your back pocket. Turning the doll over in your hand, you see it’s made of dried corn husks with string tied together to create the head and hands. There’s a strip of torn fabric wrapped around the middle to create the waste. With a mild sense of alarm, you realize that the fabric is a piece of an old sweatshirt you thought you'd donated weeks ago. You tuck the doll next to the bottle and bag, shutting the lid on the box before shoving it into the back of your closet before climbing into bed. Laying back against your pillows, your racing thoughts are muffled by the fatigue of the past three nights. Sleep descends on you like a wave. – “GET. UP.” Henry’s booming shouts through your bedroom door yanks you awake. Your heart starts pounding in your ears as you clamber out of bed to find Henry sitting at the dining table, coming up short at the sneering smile plastered across his face. He nods towards the kitchen, “I think it’s about time you start learning some respect and self reliance. I’m tired of you not pulling your weight around here.” – You start to reply, but Henry slams his fist into the table. “Not one word, I don’t want to hear one word out of you. If you want breakfast, make it yourself.” You flinch back at the vitriol in his voice and hurry into the kitchen. “Your Mom is getting back home tonight,” Henry’s voice follows you “This place had better be spotless by the time she’s back”. – The thick cloud of rage that had settled over the house after that night never fully lifted and was made living with Henry almost suffocating. It was like a switch had flipped somewhere inside him. Nothing you did from that point on was good enough for Henry; your grades were too low, your chores needed to be redone - the RIGHT way, there was always something wrong with your ‘tone of voice’. You started doing your best to avoid Henry, rather than fight a losing battle. [[Story Intro]]

''3 ITEM ENDING - SM/WB/CD'' Sitting on your bedroom floor with the open shoe box holding the folded sheet music, you pull out the bottle and dried corn doll from your pockets to give them a closer look. Trembling slightly, you look at the bottle clutched in your hands. You wonder how old the dark green glass is, tilting it slightly to better catch the light. Hearing a slight clinking sound you hold the bottle closer to your face, peering inside. You flinch in disgust when you realize teeth are floating inside the bottle's murky liquid, and quickly drop it into the box. – The rough fibers of the dried corn doll bite into your fingers as you pull it from your back pocket. Turning the doll over in your hand, you see it’s made of dried corn husks with string tied together to create the head and hands. There’s a strip of torn fabric wrapped around the middle to create the waste. With a mild sense of alarm, you realize that the fabric is a piece of an old sweatshirt you thought you'd donated weeks ago. You tuck the doll next to the bottle and bag, shutting the lid on the box before shoving it into the back of your closet before climbing into bed. Laying back against your pillows, your racing thoughts are muffled by the fatigue of the past three nights. Sleep descends on you like a wave. – “GET. UP.” Henry’s booming shouts through your bedroom door yanks you awake. Your heart starts pounding in your ears as you clamber out of bed to find Henry sitting at the dining table, coming up short at the sneering smile plastered across his face. He nods towards the kitchen, “I think it’s about time you start learning some respect and self reliance. I’m tired of you not pulling your weight around here.” – You start to reply, but Henry slams his fist into the table. “Not one word, I don’t want to hear one word out of you. If you want breakfast, make it yourself.” You flinch back at the vitriol in his voice and hurry into the kitchen. “Your Mom is getting back home tonight,” Henry’s voice follows you “This place had better be spotless by the time she’s back”. – The thick cloud of rage that had settled over the house after that night never fully lifted and was made living with Henry almost suffocating. It was like a switch had flipped somewhere inside him. Nothing you did from that point on was good enough for Henry; your grades were too low, your chores needed to be redone - the RIGHT way, there was always something wrong with your ‘tone of voice’. You started doing your best to avoid Henry, rather than fight a losing battle. [[Story Intro]]

''3 ITEM ENDING - SS/WB/CD'' Sitting on your bedroom floor with the open shoe box holding the charred herb bundle, you pull out the bottle and dried corn doll from your pockets to give them a closer look. Trembling slightly, you look at the bottle clutched in your hands. You wonder how old the dark green glass is, tilting it slightly to better catch the light. Hearing a slight clinking sound you hold the bottle closer to your face, peering inside. You flinch in disgust when you realize teeth are floating inside the bottle's murky liquid, and quickly drop it into the box. – The rough fibers of the dried corn doll bite into your fingers as you pull it from your back pocket. Turning the doll over in your hand, you see it’s made of dried corn husks with string tied together to create the head and hands. There’s a strip of torn fabric wrapped around the middle to create the waste. With a mild sense of alarm, you realize that the fabric is a piece of an old sweatshirt you thought you'd donated weeks ago. You tuck the doll next to the bottle and bag, shutting the lid on the box before shoving it into the back of your closet before climbing into bed. Laying back against your pillows, your racing thoughts are muffled by the fatigue of the past three nights. Sleep descends on you like a wave. – “GET. UP.” Henry’s booming shouts through your bedroom door yanks you awake. Your heart starts pounding in your ears as you clamber out of bed to find Henry sitting at the dining table, coming up short at the sneering smile plastered across his face. He nods towards the kitchen, “I think it’s about time you start learning some respect and self reliance. I’m tired of you not pulling your weight around here.” – You start to reply, but Henry slams his fist into the table. “Not one word, I don’t want to hear one word out of you. If you want breakfast, make it yourself.” You flinch back at the vitriol in his voice and hurry into the kitchen. “Your Mom is getting back home tonight,” Henry’s voice follows you “This place had better be spotless by the time she’s back”. – The thick cloud of rage that had settled over the house after that night never fully lifted and was made living with Henry almost suffocating. It was like a switch had flipped somewhere inside him. Nothing you did from that point on was good enough for Henry; your grades were too low, your chores needed to be redone - the RIGHT way, there was always something wrong with your ‘tone of voice’. You started doing your best to avoid Henry, rather than fight a losing battle. [[Story Intro]]

''4 ITEMS ENDING - CAUGHT'' Henry’s shape looms in front of you. You can see your breath in white puffs against the freezing air, coming faster as he turns towards you. The shadows behind him seem to move, as though something is slithering just out of sight and up the walls. He stands frozen in place and for a second you wonder if he’s actually seen you, before he takes a jerky step in your direction. You make a mad dash for your bedroom, bracing against the closed door as you try to catch your breath. The silence that follows is deafening, making your ears ring as you try to hear any hint that Henry has followed you. Your eyes eventually drift in the direction of the shoe box under your bed. It sits there like an accusation and suddenly fills you with utter revulsion. As quietly as possible, you grab it from its hiding place and stuffed it into the back of your dresser. – Curling up in bed you pull the covers over your head, shivering uncontrollably. ‘None of this makes sense. Maybe you’d gotten it all wrong, maybe Henry wasn’t looking for Tyler. Maybe he was responsible for Tyler’s disappearance? What if all of this is just Henry’s guilty conscience? What if you’re next?’ You close your eyes tightly, trying to shut out the cacophony of thoughts. The combination of exhaustion from the past three days and an adrenaline crash slam into you like a ton of bricks, pulling you under a current of sleep. – Soft candle light plays against Tyler’s gap toothed smile, casting strange shadows along the walls. His smile widens, stretching into something hideous. You try to push yourself away from him, only to discover you can’t move. Your body is tied down with rows of string, and you see that your clothes are smoldering against your skin. The smoke makes your eyes water, the thick woody smell filling your lungs. Crawling along the floor, Tyler climbs up your legs and you realize he’s humming the melody that’s been stuck in your head. The notes sound wrong and disjointed as though the sound is coming from inside a tin can. – Struggling harder against the string wrapped around you, Tyler picks up a candle and tilts it to allow the hot wax to drip into your wide eyes. Your mouth opens in a scream and you suddenly start tasting salt, the coarse grains scratching against your throat. “So close…yet so far” The humming has stopped and you hear Tyler’s voice whispering into your ear. “Don’t worry, we’ll find him.” The wax continues to fall across your face as Tyler lets out a high pitched laugh that turns into a shriek. – You jolt awake mid scream, your body drenched in sweat, tangled up in your bedsheets. The room is bathed in comforting sunlight, and you stifle as sob as the nightmare begins to fade. After several seconds, you realize something is still very wrong. The ringing silence from the night before has followed you into the light of day. Cautiously, you creep out of your room and are greeted by an abandoned house. Confusion blooms into full blown panic as you stare at the front door, swinging lazily on its hinges, unlocked and having been thrown wide open. – The first few weeks after that night are hazy memories; the police questioning, Mom’s frantic return home, canvassing the neighborhood and putting up missing person posters. It all blends together like mud. After the initial shock had worn off, you tried to tell Mom about Henry’s increasingly odd behavior; the wandering around at night, the strange things hidden around the house, and Tyler. At first she didn’t believe you, the more you pressed the angrier she got. After seeing a pamphlet for a ‘Troubled Youth’ center sticking out of her purse, you dropped the subject all together. Weeks turned to months, months into years, but neither Tyler or Henry was ever found. [[Story Intro]]

''4 ITEM ENDING - CAUGHT - RC/SB/SM/CD'' Henry’s shape looms in front of you. You can see your breath in white puffs against the freezing air, coming faster as he turns towards you. The shadows behind him seem to move, as though something is slithering just out of sight and up the walls. He stands frozen in place and for a second you wonder if he’s actually seen you, before he takes a jerky step in your direction. You make a mad dash for your bedroom, still clutching the doll tightly in your hand. The rough fibers bite into your fingers as you brace against the closed door, trying to catch your breath. The silence that follows is deafening, making your ears ring as you try to hear any hint that Henry has followed you. Your eyes eventually drift in the direction of the shoe box under your bed. It sits there like an accusation and suddenly fills you with utter revulsion. As quietly as possible, you grab it from its hiding place, throwing the doll inside and stuffed it into the back of your dresser. – Curling up in bed you pull the covers over your head, shivering uncontrollably. ‘None of this makes sense. Maybe you’d gotten it all wrong, maybe Henry wasn’t looking for Tyler. Maybe he was responsible for Tyler’s disappearance? What if all of this is just Henry’s guilty conscience? What if you’re next?’ You close your eyes tightly, trying to shut out the cacophony of thoughts. The combination of exhaustion from the past three days and an adrenaline crash slam into you like a ton of bricks, pulling you under a current of sleep. – Soft candle light plays against Tyler’s gap toothed smile, casting strange shadows along the walls. His smile widens, stretching into something hideous.You try to push yourself away from him, only to discover you can’t move. Your body is made of old corn husks, tied tightly together with thin string. Tyler crawls over to you, putting his face close to yours. He starts humming the melody that’s been stuck in your head, but the notes sound wrong and disjointed as though the sound is coming from inside a tin can. – Struggling harder against the string wrapped around you, Tyler picks up a candle and tilts it to allow the hot wax to drip into your wide eyes. Your mouth opens in a scream and you suddenly start tasting salt, the coarse grains scratching against your throat. “So close…yet so far” The humming has stopped and you hear Tyler’s voice whispering into your ear. “Don’t worry, we’ll find him.” The wax continues to fall across your face as Tyler lets out a high pitched laugh that turns into a shriek. – You jolt awake mid scream, your body drenched in sweat, tangled up in your bedsheets. The room is bathed in comforting sunlight, and you stifle as sob as the nightmare begins to fade. After several seconds, you realize something is still very wrong. The ringing silence from the night before has followed you into the light of day. Cautiously, you creep out of your room and are greeted by an abandoned house. Confusion blooms into full blown panic as you stare at the front door, swinging lazily on its hinges, unlocked and having been thrown wide open. – The first few weeks after that night are hazy memories; the police questioning, Mom’s frantic return home, canvassing the neighborhood and putting up missing person posters. It all blends together like mud. After the initial shock had worn off, you tried to tell Mom about Henry’s increasingly odd behavior; the wandering around at night, the strange things hidden around the house, and Tyler. At first she didn’t believe you, the more you pressed the angrier she got. After seeing a pamphlet for a ‘Troubled Youth’ center sticking out of her purse, you dropped the subject all together. Weeks turned to months, months into years, but neither Tyler or Henry was ever found. [[Story Intro]]

''4 ITEM ENDING - CAUGHT - RC/SB/SM/WB'' Henry’s shape looms in front of you. You can see your breath in white puffs against the freezing air, coming faster as he turns towards you. The shadows behind him seem to move, as though something is slithering just out of sight and up the walls. He stands frozen in place and for a second you wonder if he’s actually seen you, before he takes a jerky step in your direction. You make a mad dash for your bedroom, still clutching the bottle tightly in your hand. You drop it onto the floor as you brace against the closed door, trying to catch your breath. The silence that follows is deafening, making your ears ring as you try to hear any hint that Henry has followed you. Your eyes eventually drift in the direction of the shoe box under your bed. It sits there like an accusation and suddenly fills you with utter revulsion. As quietly as possible, you grab it from its hiding place, picking the bottle off the floor and throwing it inside. You stuff it into the back of your dresser. – Curling up in bed you pull the covers over your head, shivering uncontrollably. ‘None of this makes sense. Maybe you’d gotten it all wrong, maybe Henry wasn’t looking for Tyler. Maybe he was responsible for Tyler’s disappearance? What if all of this is just Henry’s guilty conscience? What if you’re next?’ You close your eyes tightly, trying to shut out the cacophony of thoughts. The combination of exhaustion from the past three days and an adrenaline crash slam into you like a ton of bricks, pulling you under a current of sleep. – Soft candle light plays against Tyler’s gap toothed smile, casting strange shadows along the walls. His smile widens, stretching into something hideous. You try to push yourself away from him, only to discover you can’t move. Looking down, you see your body is tied down with rows of string. Crawling along the floor, Tyler climbs up your legs and you realize he’s humming the melody that’s been stuck in your head. The notes sound wrong and disjointed as though the sound is coming from inside a tin can. – Struggling harder against the string wrapped around you, something falls out of Tyler’s mouth. In horror, you realize that his smile has more gaps as his teeth begin to shower across your face. He picks up a candle and tilts it to allow the hot wax to drip into your wide eyes. Your mouth opens in a scream and you suddenly start tasting salt, the coarse grains scratching against your throat. “So close…yet so far” The humming has stopped and you hear Tyler’s voice whispering into your ear. “Don’t worry, we’ll find him.” The wax continues to fall across your face as Tyler lets out a high pitched laugh that turns into a shriek. – You jolt awake mid scream, your body drenched in sweat, tangled up in your bedsheets. The room is bathed in comforting sunlight, and you stifle as sob as the nightmare begins to fade. After several seconds, you realize something is still very wrong. The ringing silence from the night before has followed you into the light of day. Cautiously, you creep out of your room and are greeted by an abandoned house. Confusion blooms into full blown panic as you stare at the front door, swinging lazily on its hinges, unlocked and having been thrown wide open. – The first few weeks after that night are hazy memories; the police questioning, Mom’s frantic return home, canvassing the neighborhood and putting up missing person posters. It all blends together like mud. After the initial shock had worn off, you tried to tell Mom about Henry’s increasingly odd behavior; the wandering around at night, the strange things hidden around the house, and Tyler. At first she didn’t believe you, the more you pressed the angrier she got. After seeing a pamphlet for a ‘Troubled Youth’ center sticking out of her purse, you dropped the subject all together. Weeks turned to months, months into years, but neither Tyler or Henry was ever found. [[Story Intro]]

''4 ITEM ENDING - CAUGHT - RC/SB/SS/CD'' Henry’s shape looms in front of you. You can see your breath in white puffs against the freezing air, coming faster as he turns towards you. The shadows behind him seem to move, as though something is slithering just out of sight and up the walls. He stands frozen in place and for a second you wonder if he’s actually seen you, before he takes a jerky step in your direction. You make a mad dash for your bedroom, still clutching the doll tightly in your hand. The rough fibers bite into your fingers as you brace against the closed door, trying to catch your breath. The silence that follows is deafening, making your ears ring as you try to hear any hint that Henry has followed you. Your eyes eventually drift in the direction of the shoe box under your bed. It sits there like an accusation and suddenly fills you with utter revulsion. As quietly as possible, you grab it from its hiding place, throwing the doll inside and stuffed it into the back of your dresser. – Curling up in bed you pull the covers over your head, shivering uncontrollably. ‘None of this makes sense. Maybe you’d gotten it all wrong, maybe Henry wasn’t looking for Tyler. Maybe he was responsible for Tyler’s disappearance? What if all of this is just Henry’s guilty conscience? What if you’re next?’ You close your eyes tightly, trying to shut out the cacophony of thoughts. The combination of exhaustion from the past three days and an adrenaline crash slam into you like a ton of bricks, pulling you under a current of sleep. – Soft candle light plays against Tyler’s gap toothed smile, casting strange shadows along the walls. His smile widens, stretching into something hideous. Smoke begins to pour out from between his teeth and you try to push yourself away from him, only to discover you can’t move. Your body is made of old corn husks, tied tightly together with thin string. Tyler crawls over to you, putting his face close to yours. The smoke makes your eyes water, the thick woody smell filling your lungs. – Struggling harder against the string wrapped around you, Tyler picks up a candle and tilts it to allow the hot wax to drip into your wide eyes. Your mouth opens in a scream and you suddenly start tasting salt, the coarse grains scratching against your throat. “So close…yet so far” The humming has stopped and you hear Tyler’s voice whispering into your ear. “Don’t worry, we’ll find him.” The wax continues to fall across your face as Tyler lets out a high pitched laugh that turns into a shriek. – You jolt awake mid scream, your body drenched in sweat, tangled up in your bedsheets. The room is bathed in comforting sunlight, and you stifle as sob as the nightmare begins to fade. After several seconds, you realize something is still very wrong. The ringing silence from the night before has followed you into the light of day. Cautiously, you creep out of your room and are greeted by an abandoned house. Confusion blooms into full blown panic as you stare at the front door, swinging lazily on its hinges, unlocked and having been thrown wide open. – The first few weeks after that night are hazy memories; the police questioning, Mom’s frantic return home, canvassing the neighborhood and putting up missing person posters. It all blends together like mud. After the initial shock had worn off, you tried to tell Mom about Henry’s increasingly odd behavior; the wandering around at night, the strange things hidden around the house, and Tyler. At first she didn’t believe you, the more you pressed the angrier she got. After seeing a pamphlet for a ‘Troubled Youth’ center sticking out of her purse, you dropped the subject all together. Weeks turned to months, months into years, but neither Tyler or Henry was ever found. [[Story Intro]]

''4 ITEM ENDING - CAUGHT - RC/SB/SS/WB'' You sit huddled in bed, your arms wrapped around you as you try to stop shaking. It wasn’t just Henry anymore, something was wrong with the entire house. The stains on the walls, those things moving around in the shadows, it wasn’t just your imagination. The shoe box sits in front of you, the items strewn across your covers now joined by the bottle. Reaching for it, you wonder how old the dark green glass is, tilting it slightly to better catch the light. Hearing a slight clinking sound you hold the bottle closer to your face, peering inside. Floating inside the bottle’s murky liquid you see what you think are small white stones. As the stones settle at the bottom of the bottle, you realize that they aren’t ‘stones’, but small teeth. You drop the bottle back onto your bed in disgust. – You thought spin wildly, trying to come up with a logical explanation. Maybe it was demons? Aliens? You run through everything you learned at the library but only find more questions. ‘Why was Henry putting up missing posters for Tyler? Did he know Tyler? The symbols on the candles, the salt, trying to smudge the house - specifically my room - an old protection hymn…what is Henry so afraid of? But he doesn’t seem afraid, he seems furious.’ You drop your head onto your knees, rocking slightly. – ‘Enough is enough. I don’t care how much trouble I get into, I’m going to get answers out of Henry tomorrow - one way or another.’ Your confusion hardens into determination and you scoop all the items on your bed back into the box. Curling up under your covers, you’re starting to feel better. The fatigue from the past three nights crashes into you like a ton of brings and sleep pulls you under. – Soft candle light plays against Tyler’s gap toothed smile, casting strange shadows along the walls. His smile widens, stretching into something hideous. You try to push yourself away from him, only to discover you can’t move. Your body is tied down with rows of string, and you see that your clothes are smoldering against your skin. The smoke makes your eyes water, the thick woody smell filling your lungs. – Struggling harder against the string wrapped around you, something falls out of Tyler’s mouth. In horror, you realize that his smile has more gaps as his teeth begin to shower across your face. He picks up a candle and tilts it to allow the hot wax to drip into your wide eyes. Your mouth opens in a scream and you suddenly start tasting salt, the coarse grains scratching against your throat. “So close…yet so far” The humming has stopped and you hear Tyler’s voice whispering into your ear. “Don’t worry, we’ll find him.” The wax continues to fall across your face as Tyler lets out a high pitched laugh that turns into a shriek. – You jolt awake mid scream, your body drenched in sweat, tangled up in your bedsheets. The room is bathed in too bright sunlight, and you stifle as sob as the nightmare begins to fade. Calming down, you’re struck by a ringing silence. If Henry had heard you scream, he was ignoring it. Feeling a stab of hurt, you wriggle out of your covers and walk into the hall. More silence. Looking down the hall, you see the doors to the bedroom and Henry’s office standing open. Looking into the office, empty, and then the bedroom, also empty, your confusion quickly mounts to panic. You search the entire house, finally standing frozen in the living room to see the front door hanging open. Henry was gone. – After a frantic call to your Mom, the rest of the following weeks are a blurry memory at best. Henry hadn't packed a bag, hadn't left a note, hadn't even shut or locked the front door in his hasty departure. You debated telling your Mom everything - about Henry's behavior, the increasingly strange things that were happening to the house, or showing her the shoebox that still sat under your bed like a land mine. But you could never quite find the words and eventually enough time passed that it seemed pointless. Even after all these years you still have more questions than answers about what happened to Henry, and Tyler. [[Story Intro]]

''4 ITEM ENDING - CAUGHT - RC/SM/SS/CD'' Henry’s shape looms in front of you. You can see your breath in white puffs against the freezing air, coming faster as he turns towards you. The shadows behind him seem to move, as though something is slithering just out of sight and up the walls. He stands frozen in place and for a second you wonder if he’s actually seen you, before he takes a jerky step in your direction. You make a mad dash for your bedroom, still clutching the doll tightly in your hand. The rough fibers bite into your fingers as you brace against the closed door, trying to catch your breath. The silence that follows is deafening, making your ears ring as you try to hear any hint that Henry has followed you. Your eyes eventually drift in the direction of the shoe box under your bed. It sits there like an accusation and suddenly fills you with utter revulsion. As quietly as possible, you grab it from its hiding place, throwing the doll inside and stuffed it into the back of your dresser. – Curling up in bed you pull the covers over your head, shivering uncontrollably. ‘None of this makes sense. Maybe you’d gotten it all wrong, maybe Henry wasn’t looking for Tyler. Maybe he was responsible for Tyler’s disappearance? What if all of this is just Henry’s guilty conscience? What if you’re next?’ You close your eyes tightly, trying to shut out the cacophony of thoughts. The combination of exhaustion from the past three days and an adrenaline crash slam into you like a ton of bricks, pulling you under a current of sleep. – Soft candle light plays against Tyler’s gap toothed smile, casting strange shadows along the walls. His smile widens, stretching into something hideous. Smoke begins to pour out from between his teeth and you try to push yourself away from him, only to discover you can’t move. Your body is made of old corn husks, tied tightly together with thin string. Tyler crawls over to you, putting his face close to yours. The smoke makes your eyes water, the thick woody smell filling your lungs, and you realizeTyler is humming the melody that’s been stuck in your head. – Struggling harder against the string wrapped around you, Tyler picks up a candle and tilts it to allow the hot wax to drip into your wide eyes. Your mouth opens in a scream and the humming is replaced by a childish giggle. “So close…yet so far” You hear Tyler’s voice whispering into your ear. “Don’t worry, we’ll find him.” The wax continues to fall across your face as Tyler lets out a high pitched laugh that turns into a shriek. – You jolt awake mid scream, your body drenched in sweat, tangled up in your bedsheets. The room is bathed in comforting sunlight, and you stifle as sob as the nightmare begins to fade. After several seconds, you realize something is still very wrong. The ringing silence from the night before has followed you into the light of day. Cautiously, you creep out of your room and are greeted by an abandoned house. Confusion blooms into full blown panic as you stare at the front door, swinging lazily on its hinges, unlocked and having been thrown wide open. – The first few weeks after that night are hazy memories; the police questioning, Mom’s frantic return home, canvassing the neighborhood and putting up missing person posters. It all blends together like mud. After the initial shock had worn off, you tried to tell Mom about Henry’s increasingly odd behavior; the wandering around at night, the strange things hidden around the house, and Tyler. At first she didn’t believe you, the more you pressed the angrier she got. After seeing a pamphlet for a ‘Troubled Youth’ center sticking out of her purse, you dropped the subject all together. Weeks turned to months, months into years, but neither Tyler or Henry was ever found. [[Story Intro]]

''4 ITEM ENDING - CAUGHT - RC/SM/SS/WB'' Henry’s shape looms in front of you. You can see your breath in white puffs against the freezing air, coming faster as he turns towards you. The shadows behind him seem to move, as though something is slithering just out of sight and up the walls. He stands frozen in place and for a second you wonder if he’s actually seen you, before he takes a jerky step in your direction. You make a mad dash for your bedroom, still clutching the bottle tightly in your hand. You drop it onto the floor as you brace against the closed door, trying to catch your breath. The silence that follows is deafening, making your ears ring as you try to hear any hint that Henry has followed you. Your eyes eventually drift in the direction of the shoe box under your bed. It sits there like an accusation and suddenly fills you with utter revulsion. As quietly as possible, you grabbed it from its hiding place, picking the bottle off the floor and throwing it inside. You stuff it into the back of your dresser. – Curling up in bed you pull the covers over your head, shivering uncontrollably. ‘None of this makes sense. Maybe you’d gotten it all wrong, maybe Henry wasn’t looking for Tyler. Maybe he was responsible for Tyler’s disappearance? What if all of this is just Henry’s guilty conscience? What if you’re next?’ You close your eyes tightly, trying to shut out the cacophony of thoughts. The combination of exhaustion from the past three days and an adrenaline crash slam into you like a ton of bricks, pulling you under a current of sleep. – Soft candle light plays against Tyler’s gap toothed smile, casting strange shadows along the walls. His smile widens, stretching into something hideous. You try to push yourself away from him, only to discover you can’t move. Your body is tied down with rows of string, and you see that your clothes are smoldering against your skin. The smoke makes your eyes water, the thick woody smell filling your lungs. Crawling along the floor, Tyler climbs up your legs and you realize he’s humming the melody that’s been stuck in your head. The notes sound wrong and disjointed as though the sound is coming from inside a tin can. – Struggling harder against the string wrapped around you, something falls out of Tyler’s mouth. In horror, you realize that his smile has more gaps as his teeth begin to shower across your face. He picks up a candle and tilts it to allow the hot wax to drip into your wide eyes. Your mouth opens in a scream and humming turns into a childish giggle. “So close…yet so far” You hear Tyler’s voice whispering into your ear. “Don’t worry, we’ll find him.” The wax continues to fall across your face as Tyler lets out a high pitched laugh that turns into a shriek. – You jolt awake mid scream, your body drenched in sweat, tangled up in your bedsheets. The room is bathed in comforting sunlight, and you stifle as sob as the nightmare begins to fade. After several seconds, you realize something is still very wrong. The ringing silence from the night before has followed you into the light of day. Cautiously, you creep out of your room and are greeted by an abandoned house. Confusion blooms into full blown panic as you stare at the front door, swinging lazily on its hinges, unlocked and having been thrown wide open. – The first few weeks after that night are hazy memories; the police questioning, Mom’s frantic return home, canvassing the neighborhood and putting up missing person posters. It all blends together like mud. After the initial shock had worn off, you tried to tell Mom about Henry’s increasingly odd behavior; the wandering around at night, the strange things hidden around the house, and Tyler. At first she didn’t believe you, the more you pressed the angrier she got. After seeing a pamphlet for a ‘Troubled Youth’ center sticking out of her purse, you dropped the subject all together. Weeks turned to months, months into years, but neither Tyler or Henry was ever found. [[Story Intro]]

''4 ITEM ENDING - CAUGHT - SB/SM/SS/CD'' Henry’s shape looms in front of you. You can see your breath in white puffs against the freezing air, coming faster as he turns towards you. The shadows behind him seem to move, as though something is slithering just out of sight and up the walls. He stands frozen in place and for a second you wonder if he’s actually seen you, before he takes a jerky step in your direction. You make a mad dash for your bedroom, still clutching the doll tightly in your hand. The rough fibers bite into your fingers as you brace against the closed door, trying to catch your breath. The silence that follows is deafening, making your ears ring as you try to hear any hint that Henry has followed you. Your eyes eventually drift in the direction of the shoe box under your bed. It sits there like an accusation and suddenly fills you with utter revulsion. As quietly as possible, you grab it from its hiding place, throwing the doll inside and stuffed it into the back of your dresser. – Curling up in bed you pull the covers over your head, shivering uncontrollably. ‘None of this makes sense. Maybe you’d gotten it all wrong, maybe Henry wasn’t looking for Tyler. Maybe he was responsible for Tyler’s disappearance? What if all of this is just Henry’s guilty conscience? What if you’re next?’ You close your eyes tightly, trying to shut out the cacophony of thoughts. The combination of exhaustion from the past three days and an adrenaline crash slam into you like a ton of bricks, pulling you under a current of sleep. – The first thing you smell is smoke, woody and thick. It makes your eyes water as you stumble through the darkness. A sickly yellow light flicks on somewhere overhead, and you see Tyler’s gap toothed smile beaming up at you from the floor. His head has been sewn onto a corn husk body, and you see the smoke is pouring out from between his teeth. He closes his eyes and starts humming the melody that’s been stuck in your head as you turn to run. Your feet sink into the floor, the ground beginning to shift like sand beneath you the more you struggle. – You scramble, frantic to try and find something to grab onto as your body is pulled further down. The humming stops, replaced by a childish giggle. “So close…yet so far.” You hear Tyler’s voice behind. You’re up to your neck now, sinking faster. “Don’t worry, we’ll find him.” You let out a scream as your head is submerged. Salt floods into your open mouth, pouring down your throat. – You jolt awake mid scream, your body drenched in sweat, tangled up in your bedsheets. The room is bathed in comforting sunlight, and you stifle as sob as the nightmare begins to fade. After several seconds, you realize something is still very wrong. The ringing silence from the night before has followed you into the light of day. Cautiously, you creep out of your room and are greeted by an abandoned house. Confusion blooms into full blown panic as you stare at the front door, swinging lazily on its hinges, unlocked and having been thrown wide open. – The first few weeks after that night are hazy memories; the police questioning, Mom’s frantic return home, canvassing the neighborhood and putting up missing person posters. It all blends together like mud. After the initial shock had worn off, you tried to tell Mom about Henry’s increasingly odd behavior; the wandering around at night, the strange things hidden around the house, and Tyler. At first she didn’t believe you, the more you pressed the angrier she got. After seeing a pamphlet for a ‘Troubled Youth’ center sticking out of her purse, you dropped the subject all together. Weeks turned to months, months into years, but neither Tyler or Henry was ever found.

''4 ITEM ENDING - CAUGHT - SB/SM/SS/WB'' Henry’s shape looms in front of you. You can see your breath in white puffs against the freezing air, coming faster as he turns towards you. The shadows behind him seem to move, as though something is slithering just out of sight and up the walls. He stands frozen in place and for a second you wonder if he’s actually seen you, before he takes a jerky step in your direction. You make a mad dash for your bedroom, still clutching the bottle tightly in your hand. You drop it onto the floor as you brace against the closed door, trying to catch your breath. The silence that follows is deafening, making your ears ring as you try to hear any hint that Henry has followed you. Your eyes eventually drift in the direction of the shoe box under your bed. It sits there like an accusation and suddenly fills you with utter revulsion. As quietly as possible, you grabbed it from its hiding place, picking the bottle off the floor and throwing it inside. You stuff it into the back of your dresser. – Curling up in bed you pull the covers over your head, shivering uncontrollably. ‘None of this makes sense. Maybe you’d gotten it all wrong, maybe Henry wasn’t looking for Tyler. Maybe he was responsible for Tyler’s disappearance? What if all of this is just Henry’s guilty conscience? What if you’re next?’ You close your eyes tightly, trying to shut out the cacophony of thoughts. The combination of exhaustion from the past three days and an adrenaline crash slam into you like a ton of bricks, pulling you under a current of sleep. – The first thing you smell is smoke, woody and thick. It makes your eyes water as you stumble through the darkness. Someone is humming the melody that’s been stuck in your head, and you carefully make your way towards the sound. A sickly yellow light flicks on somewhere overhead, and you see Tyler’s gap toothed smile beaming up at you from the floor. He is sitting cross legged on the floor, holding a glass bottle, smoke pouring out from between his teeth. You watch in horror as he reaches into his mouth, grabbing one of his bottom teeth and begins to pull. With a soft popping sound, the tooth comes free and he drops it into the bottle. You turn to run as his hand goes back to his mouth but feet sink into the floor, the ground beginning to shift like sand beneath you the more you struggle. – You scramble, frantic to try and find something to grab onto as your body is pulled further down. The humming stops, replaced by a childish giggle. “So close…yet so far.” You hear Tyler’s voice behind, along with another pop and clinking sound of teeth landing against glass. You’re up to your neck now, sinking faster. “Don’t worry, we’ll find him.” You let out a scream as your head is submerged. Salt floods into your open mouth, pouring down your throat. – You jolt awake mid scream, your body drenched in sweat, tangled up in your bedsheets. The room is bathed in comforting sunlight, and you stifle as sob as the nightmare begins to fade. After several seconds, you realize something is still very wrong. The ringing silence from the night before has followed you into the light of day. Cautiously, you creep out of your room and are greeted by an abandoned house. Confusion blooms into full blown panic as you stare at the front door, swinging lazily on its hinges, unlocked and having been thrown wide open. – The first few weeks after that night are hazy memories; the police questioning, Mom’s frantic return home, canvassing the neighborhood and putting up missing person posters. It all blends together like mud. After the initial shock had worn off, you tried to tell Mom about Henry’s increasingly odd behavior; the wandering around at night, the strange things hidden around the house, and Tyler. At first she didn’t believe you, the more you pressed the angrier she got. After seeing a pamphlet for a ‘Troubled Youth’ center sticking out of her purse, you dropped the subject all together. Weeks turned to months, months into years, but neither Tyler or Henry was ever found. [[Story Intro]]

''4 ITEM ENDING - RC/SB/WB/CD'' You sit huddled in bed, your arms wrapped around you as you try to stop shaking. It wasn’t just Henry anymore, something was wrong with the entire house. The stains on the walls, those things moving around in the shadows, it wasn’t just your imagination. The shoe box sits in front of you, the items strewn across your covers with the addition of a small corn doll and glass bottle. You pick up the doll. – The rough fibers of the dried corn husks bite into your fingers as you turn it over in your hand. Three bunches tied together with string at the top and sides make the head and hands. You notice a piece of cloth is tied around the middle to make a waist and, with a mild sense of alarm, you realize that it's a piece of an old sweatshirt you thought you'd donated weeks ago. Putting the doll down, you reach for the bottle. You wonder how old the dark green glass is, tilting it slightly to better catch the light. Hearing a slight clinking sound you hold the bottle closer to your face, peering inside. Floating inside the bottle’s murky liquid you see what you think are small white stones. As the stones settle at the bottom of the bottle, you realize that they aren’t ‘stones’, but small teeth. You drop the bottle back onto your bed in disgust. – You thought spin wildly, trying to come up with a logical explanation. Maybe it was demons? Aliens? You run through everything you learned at the library but only find more questions. ‘Why was Henry putting up missing posters for Tyler? Did he know Tyler? The symbols on the candles, the salt, trying to smudge the house - specifically my room - an old protection hymn…what is Henry so afraid of? But he doesn’t seem afraid, he seems furious.’ You drop your head onto your knees, rocking slightly. – ‘Enough is enough. I don’t care how much trouble I get into, I’m going to get answers out of Henry tomorrow - one way or another.’ Your confusion hardens into determination and you scoop all the items on your bed back into the box. Curling up under your covers, you’re starting to feel better. The fatigue from the past three nights crashes into you like a ton of brings and sleep pulls you under. – Soft candle light plays against Tyler’s gap toothed smile, casting strange shadows along the walls. His smile widens, stretching into something hideous. You try to push yourself away from him, only to discover you can’t move. Your body is made of old corn husks, tied tightly together with thin string. Tyler crawls over to you, putting his face close to yours. Struggling harder against the string wrapped around you, something falls out of Tyler’s mouth. In horror, you realize that his smile has more gaps as his teeth begin to shower across your face. – Tyler picks up a candle and tilts it to allow the hot wax to drip into your wide eyes. Your mouth opens in a scream and you suddenly start tasting salt, the coarse grains scratching against your throat. “So close…yet so far” The humming has stopped and you hear Tyler’s voice whispering into your ear. “Don’t worry, we’ll find him.” The wax continues to fall across your face as Tyler lets out a high pitched laugh that turns into a shriek. – You jolt awake mid scream, your body drenched in sweat, tangled up in your bedsheets. The room is bathed in too bright sunlight, and you stifle as sob as the nightmare begins to fade. Calming down, you’re struck by a ringing silence. If Henry had heard you scream, he was ignoring it. Feeling a stab of hurt, you wriggle out of your covers and walk into the hall. More silence. Looking down the hall, you see the doors to the bedroom and Henry’s office standing open. Looking into the office, empty, and then the bedroom, also empty, your confusion quickly mounts to panic. You search the entire house, finally standing frozen in the living room to see the front door hanging open. Henry was gone. – After a frantic call to your Mom, the rest of the following weeks are a blurry memory at best. Henry hadn't packed a bag, hadn't left a note, hadn't even shut or locked the front door in his hasty departure. You debated telling your Mom everything - about Henry's behavior, the increasingly strange things that were happening to the house, or showing her the shoebox that still sat under your bed like a land mine. But you could never quite find the words and eventually enough time passed that it seemed pointless. Even after all these years you still have more questions than answers about what happened to Henry, and Tyler. [[Story Intro]]

''4 ITEM ENDING - RC/SM/WB/CD'' You sit huddled in bed, your arms wrapped around you as you try to stop shaking. It wasn’t just Henry anymore, something was wrong with the entire house. The stains on the walls, those things moving around in the shadows, it wasn’t just your imagination. The shoe box sits in front of you, the items strewn across your covers with the addition of a small corn doll and glass bottle. You pick up the doll. – The rough fibers of the dried corn husks bite into your fingers as you turn it over in your hand. Three bunches tied together with string at the top and sides make the head and hands. You notice a piece of cloth is tied around the middle to make a waist and, with a mild sense of alarm, you realize that it's a piece of an old sweatshirt you thought you'd donated weeks ago. Putting the doll down, you reach for the bottle. You wonder how old the dark green glass is, tilting it slightly to better catch the light. Hearing a slight clinking sound you hold the bottle closer to your face, peering inside. Floating inside the bottle’s murky liquid you see what you think are small white stones. As the stones settle at the bottom of the bottle, you realize that they aren’t ‘stones’, but small teeth. You drop the bottle back onto your bed in disgust. – You thought spin wildly, trying to come up with a logical explanation. Maybe it was demons? Aliens? You run through everything you learned at the library but only find more questions. ‘Why was Henry putting up missing posters for Tyler? Did he know Tyler? The symbols on the candles, the salt, trying to smudge the house - specifically my room - an old protection hymn…what is Henry so afraid of? But he doesn’t seem afraid, he seems furious.’ You drop your head onto your knees, rocking slightly. – ‘Enough is enough. I don’t care how much trouble I get into, I’m going to get answers out of Henry tomorrow - one way or another.’ Your confusion hardens into determination and you scoop all the items on your bed back into the box. Curling up under your covers, you’re starting to feel better. The fatigue from the past three nights crashes into you like a ton of brings and sleep pulls you under. – Soft candle light plays against Tyler’s gap toothed smile, casting strange shadows along the walls. His smile widens, stretching into something hideous. You try to push yourself away from him, only to discover you can’t move. Your body is made of old corn husks, tied tightly together with thin string. Tyler crawls over to you, putting his face close to yours. Struggling harder against the string wrapped around you, something falls out of Tyler’s mouth. In horror, you realize that his smile has more gaps as his teeth begin to shower across your face. – Humming the melody that’s been stuck in your head, Tyler slowly reaches out for one of the candles. He studies it for a moment, before holding it above your face. “So close…yet so far.” He says, tilting the candle to the side. Hot wax begins dripping into your open eyes and you let out a scream. “Don’t worry, we’ll find him.” – You jolt awake mid scream, your body drenched in sweat, tangled up in your bedsheets. The room is bathed in too bright sunlight, and you stifle as sob as the nightmare begins to fade. Calming down, you’re struck by a ringing silence. If Henry had heard you scream, he was ignoring it. Feeling a stab of hurt, you wriggle out of your covers and walk into the hall. More silence. Looking down the hall, you see the doors to the bedroom and Henry’s office standing open. Looking into the office, empty, and then the bedroom, also empty, your confusion quickly mounts to panic. You search the entire house, finally standing frozen in the living room to see the front door hanging open. Henry was gone. – After a frantic call to your Mom, the rest of the following weeks are a blurry memory at best. Henry hadn't packed a bag, hadn't left a note, hadn't even shut or locked the front door in his hasty departure. You debated telling your Mom everything - about Henry's behavior, the increasingly strange things that were happening to the house, or showing her the shoebox that still sat under your bed like a land mine. But you could never quite find the words and eventually enough time passed that it seemed pointless. Even after all these years you still have more questions than answers about what happened to Henry, and Tyler. [[Story Intro]]

''4 ITEM ENDING - RC/SS/WB/CD'' You sit huddled in bed, your arms wrapped around you as you try to stop shaking. It wasn’t just Henry anymore, something was wrong with the entire house. The stains on the walls, those things moving around in the shadows, it wasn’t just your imagination. The shoe box sits in front of you, the items strewn across your covers with the addition of a small corn doll and glass bottle. You pick up the doll. – The rough fibers of the dried corn husks bite into your fingers as you turn it over in your hand. Three bunches tied together with string at the top and sides make the head and hands. You notice a piece of cloth is tied around the middle to make a waist and, with a mild sense of alarm, you realize that it's a piece of an old sweatshirt you thought you'd donated weeks ago. Putting the doll down, you reach for the bottle. You wonder how old the dark green glass is, tilting it slightly to better catch the light. Hearing a slight clinking sound you hold the bottle closer to your face, peering inside. Floating inside the bottle’s murky liquid you see what you think are small white stones. As the stones settle at the bottom of the bottle, you realize that they aren’t ‘stones’, but small teeth. You drop the bottle back onto your bed in disgust. – You thought spin wildly, trying to come up with a logical explanation. Maybe it was demons? Aliens? You run through everything you learned at the library but only find more questions. ‘Why was Henry putting up missing posters for Tyler? Did he know Tyler? The symbols on the candles, the salt, trying to smudge the house - specifically my room - an old protection hymn…what is Henry so afraid of? But he doesn’t seem afraid, he seems furious.’ You drop your head onto your knees, rocking slightly. – ‘Enough is enough. I don’t care how much trouble I get into, I’m going to get answers out of Henry tomorrow - one way or another.’ Your confusion hardens into determination and you scoop all the items on your bed back into the box. Curling up under your covers, you’re starting to feel better. The fatigue from the past three nights crashes into you like a ton of brings and sleep pulls you under. – Soft candle light plays against Tyler’s gap toothed smile, casting strange shadows along the walls. His smile widens, stretching into something hideous. Seeing smoke pouring from between his teeth, you try to push yourself away from him, only to discover you can’t move. Your body is made of old corn husks, tied tightly together with thin string. Tyler crawls over to you, putting his face close to yours. The smoke makes your eyes water and fills your lungs. Struggling harder against the string wrapped around you, something falls out of his mouth. – In horror, you realize that his smile has more gaps as his teeth begin to shower across your face. He slowly reaches out for one of the candles, studying it for a moment, before holding it above your face. “So close…yet so far.” He says, tilting the candle to the side. Hot wax begins dripping into your open eyes and you let out a scream. “Don’t worry, we’ll find him.” – You jolt awake mid scream, your body drenched in sweat, tangled up in your bedsheets. The room is bathed in too bright sunlight, and you stifle as sob as the nightmare begins to fade. Calming down, you’re struck by a ringing silence. If Henry had heard you scream, he was ignoring it. Feeling a stab of hurt, you wriggle out of your covers and walk into the hall. More silence. Looking down the hall, you see the doors to the bedroom and Henry’s office standing open. Looking into the office, empty, and then the bedroom, also empty, your confusion quickly mounts to panic. You search the entire house, finally standing frozen in the living room to see the front door hanging open. Henry was gone. – After a frantic call to your Mom, the rest of the following weeks are a blurry memory at best. Henry hadn't packed a bag, hadn't left a note, hadn't even shut or locked the front door in his hasty departure. You debated telling your Mom everything - about Henry's behavior, the increasingly strange things that were happening to the house, or showing her the shoebox that still sat under your bed like a land mine. But you could never quite find the words and eventually enough time passed that it seemed pointless. Even after all these years you still have more questions than answers about what happened to Henry, and Tyler. [[Story Intro]]

''4 ITEMS ENDING - SURVIVED'' You sit huddled in bed, your arms wrapped around you as you try to stop shaking. It wasn’t just Henry anymore, something was wrong with the entire house. The stains on the walls, those things moving around in the shadows, it wasn’t just your imagination. The shoe box sits in front of you, the items strewn across your covers. You thought spin wildly, trying to come up with a logical explanation. Maybe it was demons? Aliens? You run through everything you learned at the library but only find more questions. ‘Why was Henry putting up missing posters for Tyler? Did he know Tyler? The symbols on the candles, the salt, trying to smudge the house - specifically my room - an old protection hymn…what is Henry so afraid of? But he doesn’t seem afraid, he seems furious.’ You drop your head onto your knees, rocking slightly. – ‘Enough is enough. I don’t care how much trouble I get into, I’m going to get answers out of Henry tomorrow - one way or another.’ Your confusion hardens into determination and you scoop all the items on your bed back into the box. Curling up under your covers, you’re starting to feel better. The fatigue from the past three nights crashes into you like a ton of brings and sleep pulls you under. – Soft candle light plays against Tyler’s gap toothed smile, casting strange shadows along the walls. His smile widens, stretching into something hideous. You try to push yourself away from him, only to discover you can’t move. Your body is tied down with rows of string, and you see that your clothes are smoldering against your body. The smoke makes your eyes water, the thick woody smell filling your lungs. Crawling along the floor, Tyler climbs up your legs and you realize he’s humming the melody that’s been stuck in your head. The notes sound wrong and disjointed as though the sound is coming from inside a tin can. – Struggling harder against the string wrapped around you, Tyler picks up a candle and tilts it to allow the hot wax to drip into your wide eyes. Your mouth opens in a scream and you suddenly start tasting salt, the coarse grains scratching against your throat. “So close…yet so far” The humming has stopped and you hear Tyler’s voice whispering into your ear. “Don’t worry, we’ll find him.” The wax continues to fall across your face as Tyler lets out a high pitched laugh that turns into a shriek. – You jolt awake mid scream, your body drenched in sweat, tangled up in your bedsheets. The room is bathed in too bright sunlight, and you stifle as sob as the nightmare begins to fade. Calming down, you’re struck by a ringing silence. If Henry had heard you scream, he was ignoring it. Feeling a stab of hurt, you wriggle out of your covers and walk into the hall. More silence. Looking down the hall, you see the doors to the bedroom and Henry’s office standing open. Looking into the office, empty, and then the bedroom, also empty, your confusion quickly mounts to panic. You search the entire house, finally standing frozen in the living room to see the front door hanging open. Henry was gone. – After a frantic call to your Mom, the rest of the following weeks are a blurry memory at best. Henry hadn't packed a bag, hadn't left a note, hadn't even shut or locked the front door in his hasty departure. You debated telling your Mom everything - about Henry's behavior, the increasingly strange things that were happening to the house, or showing her the shoebox that still sat under your bed like a land mine. But you could never quite find the words and eventually enough time passed that it seemed pointless. Even after all these years you still have more questions than answers about what happened to Henry, and Tyler. [[Story Intro]]

''4 ITEM ENDING - SURVIVED - RC/SB/SM/WB'' You sit huddled in bed, your arms wrapped around you as you try to stop shaking. It wasn’t just Henry anymore, something was wrong with the entire house. The stains on the walls, those things moving around in the shadows, it wasn’t just your imagination. The shoe box sits in front of you, the items strewn across your covers with the addition of a small corn doll. You pick up the doll. The rough fibers of the dried corn husks bite into your fingers as you turn it over in your hand. Three bunches tied together with string at the top and sides make the head and hands. You notice a piece of cloth is tied around the middle to make a waist and, with a mild sense of alarm, you realize that it's a piece of an old sweatshirt you thought you'd donated weeks ago. – You thought spin wildly, trying to come up with a logical explanation. Maybe it was demons? Aliens? You run through everything you learned at the library but only find more questions. ‘Why was Henry putting up missing posters for Tyler? Did he know Tyler? The symbols on the candles, the salt, trying to smudge the house - specifically my room - an old protection hymn…what is Henry so afraid of? But he doesn’t seem afraid, he seems furious.’ You drop your head onto your knees, rocking slightly. – ‘Enough is enough. I don’t care how much trouble I get into, I’m going to get answers out of Henry tomorrow - one way or another.’ Your confusion hardens into determination and you scoop all the items on your bed back into the box. Curling up under your covers, you’re starting to feel better. The fatigue from the past three nights crashes into you like a ton of brings and sleep pulls you under. – Soft candle light plays against Tyler’s gap toothed smile, casting strange shadows along the walls. His smile widens, stretching into something hideous.You try to push yourself away from him, only to discover you can’t move. Your body is made of old corn husks, tied tightly together with thin string. Tyler crawls over to you, putting his face close to yours. He starts humming the melody that’s been stuck in your head, but the notes sound wrong and disjointed as though the sound is coming from inside a tin can. – Struggling harder against the string wrapped around you, Tyler picks up a candle and tilts it to allow the hot wax to drip into your wide eyes. Your mouth opens in a scream and you suddenly start tasting salt, the coarse grains scratching against your throat. “So close…yet so far” The humming has stopped and you hear Tyler’s voice whispering into your ear. “Don’t worry, we’ll find him.” The wax continues to fall across your face as Tyler lets out a high pitched laugh that turns into a shriek. – You jolt awake mid scream, your body drenched in sweat, tangled up in your bedsheets. The room is bathed in too bright sunlight, and you stifle as sob as the nightmare begins to fade. Calming down, you’re struck by a ringing silence. If Henry had heard you scream, he was ignoring it. Feeling a stab of hurt, you wriggle out of your covers and walk into the hall. More silence. Looking down the hall, you see the doors to the bedroom and Henry’s office standing open. Looking into the office, empty, and then the bedroom, also empty, your confusion quickly mounts to panic. You search the entire house, finally standing frozen in the living room to see the front door hanging open. Henry was gone. – After a frantic call to your Mom, the rest of the following weeks are a blurry memory at best. Henry hadn't packed a bag, hadn't left a note, hadn't even shut or locked the front door in his hasty departure. You debated telling your Mom everything - about Henry's behavior, the increasingly strange things that were happening to the house, or showing her the shoebox that still sat under your bed like a land mine. But you could never quite find the words and eventually enough time passed that it seemed pointless. Even after all these years you still have more questions than answers about what happened to Henry, and Tyler. [[Story Intro]]

''4 ITEM ENDING - SURVIVED - RC/SB/SM/WB'' You sit huddled in bed, your arms wrapped around you as you try to stop shaking. It wasn’t just Henry anymore, something was wrong with the entire house. The stains on the walls, those things moving around in the shadows, it wasn’t just your imagination. The shoe box sits in front of you, the items strewn across your covers now joined by the bottle. Reaching for it, you wonder how old the dark green glass is, tilting it slightly to better catch the light. Hearing a slight clinking sound you hold the bottle closer to your face, peering inside. Floating inside the bottle’s murky liquid you see what you think are small white stones. As the stones settle at the bottom of the bottle, you realize that they aren’t ‘stones’, but small teeth. You drop the bottle back onto your bed in disgust. – You thought spin wildly, trying to come up with a logical explanation. Maybe it was demons? Aliens? You run through everything you learned at the library but only find more questions. ‘Why was Henry putting up missing posters for Tyler? Did he know Tyler? The symbols on the candles, the salt, trying to smudge the house - specifically my room - an old protection hymn…what is Henry so afraid of? But he doesn’t seem afraid, he seems furious.’ You drop your head onto your knees, rocking slightly. – ‘Enough is enough. I don’t care how much trouble I get into, I’m going to get answers out of Henry tomorrow - one way or another.’ Your confusion hardens into determination and you scoop all the items on your bed back into the box. Curling up under your covers, you’re starting to feel better. The fatigue from the past three nights crashes into you like a ton of brings and sleep pulls you under. – Soft candle light plays against Tyler’s gap toothed smile, casting strange shadows along the walls. His smile widens, stretching into something hideous. You try to push yourself away from him, only to discover you can’t move. Looking down, you see your body is tied down with rows of string. Crawling along the floor, Tyler climbs up your legs and you realize he’s humming the melody that’s been stuck in your head. The notes sound wrong and disjointed as though the sound is coming from inside a tin can. – Struggling harder against the string wrapped around you, something falls out of Tyler’s mouth. In horror, you realize that his smile has more gaps as his teeth begin to shower across your face. He picks up a candle and tilts it to allow the hot wax to drip into your wide eyes. Your mouth opens in a scream and you suddenly start tasting salt, the coarse grains scratching against your throat. “So close…yet so far” The humming has stopped and you hear Tyler’s voice whispering into your ear. “Don’t worry, we’ll find him.” The wax continues to fall across your face as Tyler lets out a high pitched laugh that turns into a shriek. – You jolt awake mid scream, your body drenched in sweat, tangled up in your bedsheets. The room is bathed in too bright sunlight, and you stifle as sob as the nightmare begins to fade. Calming down, you’re struck by a ringing silence. If Henry had heard you scream, he was ignoring it. Feeling a stab of hurt, you wriggle out of your covers and walk into the hall. More silence. Looking down the hall, you see the doors to the bedroom and Henry’s office standing open. Looking into the office, empty, and then the bedroom, also empty, your confusion quickly mounts to panic. You search the entire house, finally standing frozen in the living room to see the front door hanging open. Henry was gone. – After a frantic call to your Mom, the rest of the following weeks are a blurry memory at best. Henry hadn't packed a bag, hadn't left a note, hadn't even shut or locked the front door in his hasty departure. You debated telling your Mom everything - about Henry's behavior, the increasingly strange things that were happening to the house, or showing her the shoebox that still sat under your bed like a land mine. But you could never quite find the words and eventually enough time passed that it seemed pointless. Even after all these years you still have more questions than answers about what happened to Henry, and Tyler. [[Story Intro]]

''4 ITEM ENDING - SURVIVED - RC/SB/SS/CD'' You sit huddled in bed, your arms wrapped around you as you try to stop shaking. It wasn’t just Henry anymore, something was wrong with the entire house. The stains on the walls, those things moving around in the shadows, it wasn’t just your imagination. The shoe box sits in front of you, the items strewn across your covers with the addition of a small corn doll. You pick up the doll. The rough fibers of the dried corn husks bite into your fingers as you turn it over in your hand. Three bunches tied together with string at the top and sides make the head and hands. You notice a piece of cloth is tied around the middle to make a waist and, with a mild sense of alarm, you realize that it's a piece of an old sweatshirt you thought you'd donated weeks ago. – You thought spin wildly, trying to come up with a logical explanation. Maybe it was demons? Aliens? You run through everything you learned at the library but only find more questions. ‘Why was Henry putting up missing posters for Tyler? Did he know Tyler? The symbols on the candles, the salt, trying to smudge the house - specifically my room - an old protection hymn…what is Henry so afraid of? But he doesn’t seem afraid, he seems furious.’ You drop your head onto your knees, rocking slightly. – ‘Enough is enough. I don’t care how much trouble I get into, I’m going to get answers out of Henry tomorrow - one way or another.’ Your confusion hardens into determination and you scoop all the items on your bed back into the box. Curling up under your covers, you’re starting to feel better. The fatigue from the past three nights crashes into you like a ton of brings and sleep pulls you under. – Soft candle light plays against Tyler’s gap toothed smile, casting strange shadows along the walls. His smile widens, stretching into something hideous. Smoke begins to pour out from between his teeth and you try to push yourself away from him, only to discover you can’t move. Your body is made of old corn husks, tied tightly together with thin string. Tyler crawls over to you, putting his face close to yours. The smoke makes your eyes water, the thick woody smell filling your lungs. – Struggling harder against the string wrapped around you, Tyler picks up a candle and tilts it to allow the hot wax to drip into your wide eyes. Your mouth opens in a scream and you suddenly start tasting salt, the coarse grains scratching against your throat. “So close…yet so far” The humming has stopped and you hear Tyler’s voice whispering into your ear. “Don’t worry, we’ll find him.” The wax continues to fall across your face as Tyler lets out a high pitched laugh that turns into a shriek. – You jolt awake mid scream, your body drenched in sweat, tangled up in your bedsheets. The room is bathed in too bright sunlight, and you stifle as sob as the nightmare begins to fade. Calming down, you’re struck by a ringing silence. If Henry had heard you scream, he was ignoring it. Feeling a stab of hurt, you wriggle out of your covers and walk into the hall. More silence. Looking down the hall, you see the doors to the bedroom and Henry’s office standing open. Looking into the office, empty, and then the bedroom, also empty, your confusion quickly mounts to panic. You search the entire house, finally standing frozen in the living room to see the front door hanging open. Henry was gone. – After a frantic call to your Mom, the rest of the following weeks are a blurry memory at best. Henry hadn't packed a bag, hadn't left a note, hadn't even shut or locked the front door in his hasty departure. You debated telling your Mom everything - about Henry's behavior, the increasingly strange things that were happening to the house, or showing her the shoebox that still sat under your bed like a land mine. But you could never quite find the words and eventually enough time passed that it seemed pointless. Even after all these years you still have more questions than answers about what happened to Henry, and Tyler. [[Story Intro]]

''4 ITEM ENDING - SURVIVED - RC/SB/SS/WB'' You sit huddled in bed, your arms wrapped around you as you try to stop shaking. It wasn’t just Henry anymore, something was wrong with the entire house. The stains on the walls, those things moving around in the shadows, it wasn’t just your imagination. The shoe box sits in front of you, the items strewn across your covers now joined by the bottle. Reaching for it, you wonder how old the dark green glass is, tilting it slightly to better catch the light. Hearing a slight clinking sound you hold the bottle closer to your face, peering inside. Floating inside the bottle’s murky liquid you see what you think are small white stones. As the stones settle at the bottom of the bottle, you realize that they aren’t ‘stones’, but small teeth. You drop the bottle back onto your bed in disgust. – You thought spin wildly, trying to come up with a logical explanation. Maybe it was demons? Aliens? You run through everything you learned at the library but only find more questions. ‘Why was Henry putting up missing posters for Tyler? Did he know Tyler? The symbols on the candles, the salt, trying to smudge the house - specifically my room - an old protection hymn…what is Henry so afraid of? But he doesn’t seem afraid, he seems furious.’ You drop your head onto your knees, rocking slightly. – ‘Enough is enough. I don’t care how much trouble I get into, I’m going to get answers out of Henry tomorrow - one way or another.’ Your confusion hardens into determination and you scoop all the items on your bed back into the box. Curling up under your covers, you’re starting to feel better. The fatigue from the past three nights crashes into you like a ton of brings and sleep pulls you under. – Soft candle light plays against Tyler’s gap toothed smile, casting strange shadows along the walls. His smile widens, stretching into something hideous. You try to push yourself away from him, only to discover you can’t move. Your body is tied down with rows of string, and you see that your clothes are smoldering against your skin. The smoke makes your eyes water, the thick woody smell filling your lungs. – Struggling harder against the string wrapped around you, something falls out of Tyler’s mouth. In horror, you realize that his smile has more gaps as his teeth begin to shower across your face. He picks up a candle and tilts it to allow the hot wax to drip into your wide eyes. Your mouth opens in a scream and you suddenly start tasting salt, the coarse grains scratching against your throat. “So close…yet so far” The humming has stopped and you hear Tyler’s voice whispering into your ear. “Don’t worry, we’ll find him.” The wax continues to fall across your face as Tyler lets out a high pitched laugh that turns into a shriek. – You jolt awake mid scream, your body drenched in sweat, tangled up in your bedsheets. The room is bathed in too bright sunlight, and you stifle as sob as the nightmare begins to fade. Calming down, you’re struck by a ringing silence. If Henry had heard you scream, he was ignoring it. Feeling a stab of hurt, you wriggle out of your covers and walk into the hall. More silence. Looking down the hall, you see the doors to the bedroom and Henry’s office standing open. Looking into the office, empty, and then the bedroom, also empty, your confusion quickly mounts to panic. You search the entire house, finally standing frozen in the living room to see the front door hanging open. Henry was gone. – After a frantic call to your Mom, the rest of the following weeks are a blurry memory at best. Henry hadn't packed a bag, hadn't left a note, hadn't even shut or locked the front door in his hasty departure. You debated telling your Mom everything - about Henry's behavior, the increasingly strange things that were happening to the house, or showing her the shoebox that still sat under your bed like a land mine. But you could never quite find the words and eventually enough time passed that it seemed pointless. Even after all these years you still have more questions than answers about what happened to Henry, and Tyler. [[Story Intro]]

''4 ITEM ENDING - SURVIVED - RC/SM/SS/CD'' You sit huddled in bed, your arms wrapped around you as you try to stop shaking. It wasn’t just Henry anymore, something was wrong with the entire house. The stains on the walls, those things moving around in the shadows, it wasn’t just your imagination. The shoe box sits in front of you, the items strewn across your covers with the addition of a small corn doll. You pick up the doll. The rough fibers of the dried corn husks bite into your fingers as you turn it over in your hand. Three bunches tied together with string at the top and sides make the head and hands. You notice a piece of cloth is tied around the middle to make a waist and, with a mild sense of alarm, you realize that it's a piece of an old sweatshirt you thought you'd donated weeks ago. – You thought spin wildly, trying to come up with a logical explanation. Maybe it was demons? Aliens? You run through everything you learned at the library but only find more questions. ‘Why was Henry putting up missing posters for Tyler? Did he know Tyler? The symbols on the candles, the salt, trying to smudge the house - specifically my room - an old protection hymn…what is Henry so afraid of? But he doesn’t seem afraid, he seems furious.’ You drop your head onto your knees, rocking slightly. – ‘Enough is enough. I don’t care how much trouble I get into, I’m going to get answers out of Henry tomorrow - one way or another.’ Your confusion hardens into determination and you scoop all the items on your bed back into the box. Curling up under your covers, you’re starting to feel better. The fatigue from the past three nights crashes into you like a ton of brings and sleep pulls you under. – Soft candle light plays against Tyler’s gap toothed smile, casting strange shadows along the walls. His smile widens, stretching into something hideous. Smoke begins to pour out from between his teeth and you try to push yourself away from him, only to discover you can’t move. Your body is made of old corn husks, tied tightly together with thin string. Tyler crawls over to you, putting his face close to yours. The smoke makes your eyes water, the thick woody smell filling your lungs, and you realizeTyler is humming the melody that’s been stuck in your head. – Struggling harder against the string wrapped around you, Tyler picks up a candle and tilts it to allow the hot wax to drip into your wide eyes. Your mouth opens in a scream and the humming is replaced by a childish giggle. “So close…yet so far” You hear Tyler’s voice whispering into your ear. “Don’t worry, we’ll find him.” The wax continues to fall across your face as Tyler lets out a high pitched laugh that turns into a shriek. – You jolt awake mid scream, your body drenched in sweat, tangled up in your bedsheets. The room is bathed in too bright sunlight, and you stifle as sob as the nightmare begins to fade. Calming down, you’re struck by a ringing silence. If Henry had heard you scream, he was ignoring it. Feeling a stab of hurt, you wriggle out of your covers and walk into the hall. More silence. Looking down the hall, you see the doors to the bedroom and Henry’s office standing open. Looking into the office, empty, and then the bedroom, also empty, your confusion quickly mounts to panic. You search the entire house, finally standing frozen in the living room to see the front door hanging open. Henry was gone. – After a frantic call to your Mom, the rest of the following weeks are a blurry memory at best. Henry hadn't packed a bag, hadn't left a note, hadn't even shut or locked the front door in his hasty departure. You debated telling your Mom everything - about Henry's behavior, the increasingly strange things that were happening to the house, or showing her the shoebox that still sat under your bed like a land mine. But you could never quite find the words and eventually enough time passed that it seemed pointless. Even after all these years you still have more questions than answers about what happened to Henry, and Tyler. [[Story Intro]]

''4 ITEM ENDING - SURVIVED - RC/SM/SS/WB'' You sit huddled in bed, your arms wrapped around you as you try to stop shaking. It wasn’t just Henry anymore, something was wrong with the entire house. The stains on the walls, those things moving around in the shadows, it wasn’t just your imagination. The shoe box sits in front of you, the items strewn across your covers now joined by the bottle. Reaching for it, you wonder how old the dark green glass is, tilting it slightly to better catch the light. Hearing a slight clinking sound you hold the bottle closer to your face, peering inside. Floating inside the bottle’s murky liquid you see what you think are small white stones. As the stones settle at the bottom of the bottle, you realize that they aren’t ‘stones’, but small teeth. You drop the bottle back onto your bed in disgust. – You thought spin wildly, trying to come up with a logical explanation. Maybe it was demons? Aliens? You run through everything you learned at the library but only find more questions. ‘Why was Henry putting up missing posters for Tyler? Did he know Tyler? The symbols on the candles, the salt, trying to smudge the house - specifically my room - an old protection hymn…what is Henry so afraid of? But he doesn’t seem afraid, he seems furious.’ You drop your head onto your knees, rocking slightly. – ‘Enough is enough. I don’t care how much trouble I get into, I’m going to get answers out of Henry tomorrow - one way or another.’ Your confusion hardens into determination and you scoop all the items on your bed back into the box. Curling up under your covers, you’re starting to feel better. The fatigue from the past three nights crashes into you like a ton of brings and sleep pulls you under. – Soft candle light plays against Tyler’s gap toothed smile, casting strange shadows along the walls. His smile widens, stretching into something hideous. You try to push yourself away from him, only to discover you can’t move. Your body is tied down with rows of string, and you see that your clothes are smoldering against your skin. The smoke makes your eyes water, the thick woody smell filling your lungs. Crawling along the floor, Tyler climbs up your legs and you realize he’s humming the melody that’s been stuck in your head. The notes sound wrong and disjointed as though the sound is coming from inside a tin can. – Struggling harder against the string wrapped around you, something falls out of Tyler’s mouth. In horror, you realize that his smile has more gaps as his teeth begin to shower across your face. He picks up a candle and tilts it to allow the hot wax to drip into your wide eyes. Your mouth opens in a scream and humming turns into a childish giggle. “So close…yet so far” You hear Tyler’s voice whispering into your ear. “Don’t worry, we’ll find him.” The wax continues to fall across your face as Tyler lets out a high pitched laugh that turns into a shriek. – You jolt awake mid scream, your body drenched in sweat, tangled up in your bedsheets. The room is bathed in too bright sunlight, and you stifle as sob as the nightmare begins to fade. Calming down, you’re struck by a ringing silence. If Henry had heard you scream, he was ignoring it. Feeling a stab of hurt, you wriggle out of your covers and walk into the hall. More silence. Looking down the hall, you see the doors to the bedroom and Henry’s office standing open. Looking into the office, empty, and then the bedroom, also empty, your confusion quickly mounts to panic. You search the entire house, finally standing frozen in the living room to see the front door hanging open. Henry was gone. – After a frantic call to your Mom, the rest of the following weeks are a blurry memory at best. Henry hadn't packed a bag, hadn't left a note, hadn't even shut or locked the front door in his hasty departure. You debated telling your Mom everything - about Henry's behavior, the increasingly strange things that were happening to the house, or showing her the shoebox that still sat under your bed like a land mine. But you could never quite find the words and eventually enough time passed that it seemed pointless. Even after all these years you still have more questions than answers about what happened to Henry, and Tyler. [[Story Intro]]

''4 ITEM ENDING - SURVIVED - SB/SM/SS/CD'' You sit huddled in bed, your arms wrapped around you as you try to stop shaking. It wasn’t just Henry anymore, something was wrong with the entire house. The stains on the walls, those things moving around in the shadows, it wasn’t just your imagination. The shoe box sits in front of you, the items strewn across your covers with the addition of a small corn doll. You pick up the doll. The rough fibers of the dried corn husks bite into your fingers as you turn it over in your hand. Three bunches tied together with string at the top and sides make the head and hands. You notice a piece of cloth is tied around the middle to make a waist and, with a mild sense of alarm, you realize that it's a piece of an old sweatshirt you thought you'd donated weeks ago. – You thought spin wildly, trying to come up with a logical explanation. Maybe it was demons? Aliens? You run through everything you learned at the library but only find more questions. ‘Why was Henry putting up missing posters for Tyler? Did he know Tyler? The symbols on the candles, the salt, trying to smudge the house - specifically my room - an old protection hymn…what is Henry so afraid of? But he doesn’t seem afraid, he seems furious.’ You drop your head onto your knees, rocking slightly. – ‘Enough is enough. I don’t care how much trouble I get into, I’m going to get answers out of Henry tomorrow - one way or another.’ Your confusion hardens into determination and you scoop all the items on your bed back into the box. Curling up under your covers, you’re starting to feel better. The fatigue from the past three nights crashes into you like a ton of brings and sleep pulls you under. – The first thing you smell is smoke, woody and thick. It makes your eyes water as you stumble through the darkness. A sickly yellow light flicks on somewhere overhead, and you see Tyler’s gap toothed smile beaming up at you from the floor. His head has been sewn onto a corn husk body, and you see the smoke is pouring out from between his teeth. He closes his eyes and starts humming the melody that’s been stuck in your head as you turn to run. Your feet sink into the floor, the ground beginning to shift like sand beneath you the more you struggle. – You scramble, frantic to try and find something to grab onto as your body is pulled further down. The humming stops, replaced by a childish giggle. “So close…yet so far.” You hear Tyler’s voice behind. You’re up to your neck now, sinking faster. “Don’t worry, we’ll find him.” You let out a scream as your head is submerged. Salt floods into your open mouth, pouring down your throat. – You jolt awake mid scream, your body drenched in sweat, tangled up in your bedsheets. The room is bathed in too bright sunlight, and you stifle as sob as the nightmare begins to fade. Calming down, you’re struck by a ringing silence. If Henry had heard you scream, he was ignoring it. Feeling a stab of hurt, you wriggle out of your covers and walk into the hall. More silence. Looking down the hall, you see the doors to the bedroom and Henry’s office standing open. Looking into the office, empty, and then the bedroom, also empty, your confusion quickly mounts to panic. You search the entire house, finally standing frozen in the living room to see the front door hanging open. Henry was gone. – After a frantic call to your Mom, the rest of the following weeks are a blurry memory at best. Henry hadn't packed a bag, hadn't left a note, hadn't even shut or locked the front door in his hasty departure. You debated telling your Mom everything - about Henry's behavior, the increasingly strange things that were happening to the house, or showing her the shoebox that still sat under your bed like a land mine. But you could never quite find the words and eventually enough time passed that it seemed pointless. Even after all these years you still have more questions than answers about what happened to Henry, and Tyler.

''4 ITEM ENDING - SURVIVED - SB/SM/SS/WB'' You sit huddled in bed, your arms wrapped around you as you try to stop shaking. It wasn’t just Henry anymore, something was wrong with the entire house. The stains on the walls, those things moving around in the shadows, it wasn’t just your imagination. The shoe box sits in front of you, the items strewn across your covers now joined by the bottle. Reaching for it, you wonder how old the dark green glass is, tilting it slightly to better catch the light. Hearing a slight clinking sound you hold the bottle closer to your face, peering inside. Floating inside the bottle’s murky liquid you see what you think are small white stones. As the stones settle at the bottom of the bottle, you realize that they aren’t ‘stones’, but small teeth. You drop the bottle back onto your bed in disgust. – You thought spin wildly, trying to come up with a logical explanation. Maybe it was demons? Aliens? You run through everything you learned at the library but only find more questions. ‘Why was Henry putting up missing posters for Tyler? Did he know Tyler? The symbols on the candles, the salt, trying to smudge the house - specifically my room - an old protection hymn…what is Henry so afraid of? But he doesn’t seem afraid, he seems furious.’ You drop your head onto your knees, rocking slightly. – ‘Enough is enough. I don’t care how much trouble I get into, I’m going to get answers out of Henry tomorrow - one way or another.’ Your confusion hardens into determination and you scoop all the items on your bed back into the box. Curling up under your covers, you’re starting to feel better. The fatigue from the past three nights crashes into you like a ton of brings and sleep pulls you under. – The first thing you smell is smoke, woody and thick. It makes your eyes water as you stumble through the darkness. Someone is humming the melody that’s been stuck in your head, and you carefully make your way towards the sound. A sickly yellow light flicks on somewhere overhead, and you see Tyler’s gap toothed smile beaming up at you from the floor. He is sitting cross legged on the floor, holding a glass bottle, smoke pouring out from between his teeth. You watch in horror as he reaches into his mouth, grabbing one of his bottom teeth and begins to pull. With a soft popping sound, the tooth comes free and he drops it into the bottle. You turn to run as his hand goes back to his mouth but feet sink into the floor, the ground beginning to shift like sand beneath you the more you struggle. – You scramble, frantic to try and find something to grab onto as your body is pulled further down. The humming stops, replaced by a childish giggle. “So close…yet so far.” You hear Tyler’s voice behind, along with another pop and clinking sound of teeth landing against glass. You’re up to your neck now, sinking faster. “Don’t worry, we’ll find him.” You let out a scream as your head is submerged. Salt floods into your open mouth, pouring down your throat. – You jolt awake mid scream, your body drenched in sweat, tangled up in your bedsheets. The room is bathed in too bright sunlight, and you stifle as sob as the nightmare begins to fade. Calming down, you’re struck by a ringing silence. If Henry had heard you scream, he was ignoring it. Feeling a stab of hurt, you wriggle out of your covers and walk into the hall. More silence. Looking down the hall, you see the doors to the bedroom and Henry’s office standing open. Looking into the office, empty, and then the bedroom, also empty, your confusion quickly mounts to panic. You search the entire house, finally standing frozen in the living room to see the front door hanging open. Henry was gone. – After a frantic call to your Mom, the rest of the following weeks are a blurry memory at best. Henry hadn't packed a bag, hadn't left a note, hadn't even shut or locked the front door in his hasty departure. You debated telling your Mom everything - about Henry's behavior, the increasingly strange things that were happening to the house, or showing her the shoebox that still sat under your bed like a land mine. But you could never quite find the words and eventually enough time passed that it seemed pointless. Even after all these years you still have more questions than answers about what happened to Henry, and Tyler. [[Story Intro]]

''4 ITEM ENDING - SB/SM/WB/CD'' You sit huddled in bed, your arms wrapped around you as you try to stop shaking. It wasn’t just Henry anymore, something was wrong with the entire house. The stains on the walls, those things moving around in the shadows, it wasn’t just your imagination. The shoe box sits in front of you, the items strewn across your covers with the addition of a small corn doll and glass bottle. You pick up the doll. – The rough fibers of the dried corn husks bite into your fingers as you turn it over in your hand. Three bunches tied together with string at the top and sides make the head and hands. You notice a piece of cloth is tied around the middle to make a waist and, with a mild sense of alarm, you realize that it's a piece of an old sweatshirt you thought you'd donated weeks ago. Putting the doll down, you reach for the bottle. You wonder how old the dark green glass is, tilting it slightly to better catch the light. Hearing a slight clinking sound you hold the bottle closer to your face, peering inside. Floating inside the bottle’s murky liquid you see what you think are small white stones. As the stones settle at the bottom of the bottle, you realize that they aren’t ‘stones’, but small teeth. You drop the bottle back onto your bed in disgust. – You thought spin wildly, trying to come up with a logical explanation. Maybe it was demons? Aliens? You run through everything you learned at the library but only find more questions. ‘Why was Henry putting up missing posters for Tyler? Did he know Tyler? The symbols on the candles, the salt, trying to smudge the house - specifically my room - an old protection hymn…what is Henry so afraid of? But he doesn’t seem afraid, he seems furious.’ You drop your head onto your knees, rocking slightly. – ‘Enough is enough. I don’t care how much trouble I get into, I’m going to get answers out of Henry tomorrow - one way or another.’ Your confusion hardens into determination and you scoop all the items on your bed back into the box. Curling up under your covers, you’re starting to feel better. The fatigue from the past three nights crashes into you like a ton of brings and sleep pulls you under. – Stumbling around in pitch darkness, you begin to hear someone humming the melody that’s been stuck in your head. Blindly, you slowly make your way towards the sound. A sickly yellow light flicks on somewhere overhead, and you see Tyler’s gap toothed smile beaming up at you from the floor. His head has been sewn onto a corn husk body, and he is tilting his head in time to the hymn. Abruptly the humming stops as he begins to roll something around in his mouth, spitting something small and white onto the floor next to him. A tooth. – You turn to run away, but feel your feet sink into the floor, the ground beginning to shift like sand beneath you the more you struggle. You scramble, frantic to try and find something to grab onto as your body is pulled further down. The room echoes with the sound of manic, childish giggling. “So close…yet so far.” You hear Tyler’s voice behind. You’re up to your neck now, sinking faster. “Don’t worry, we’ll find him.” You let out a scream as your head is submerged. Salt floods into your open mouth, pouring down your throat. – You jolt awake mid scream, your body drenched in sweat, tangled up in your bedsheets. The room is bathed in too bright sunlight, and you stifle as sob as the nightmare begins to fade. Calming down, you’re struck by a ringing silence. If Henry had heard you scream, he was ignoring it. Feeling a stab of hurt, you wriggle out of your covers and walk into the hall. More silence. Looking down the hall, you see the doors to the bedroom and Henry’s office standing open. Looking into the office, empty, and then the bedroom, also empty, your confusion quickly mounts to panic. You search the entire house, finally standing frozen in the living room to see the front door hanging open. Henry was gone. – After a frantic call to your Mom, the rest of the following weeks are a blurry memory at best. Henry hadn't packed a bag, hadn't left a note, hadn't even shut or locked the front door in his hasty departure. You debated telling your Mom everything - about Henry's behavior, the increasingly strange things that were happening to the house, or showing her the shoebox that still sat under your bed like a land mine. But you could never quite find the words and eventually enough time passed that it seemed pointless. Even after all these years you still have more questions than answers about what happened to Henry, and Tyler. [[Story Intro]]

''4 ITEM ENDING - SB/SS/WB/CD'' You sit huddled in bed, your arms wrapped around you as you try to stop shaking. It wasn’t just Henry anymore, something was wrong with the entire house. The stains on the walls, those things moving around in the shadows, it wasn’t just your imagination. The shoe box sits in front of you, the items strewn across your covers with the addition of a small corn doll and glass bottle. You pick up the doll. – The rough fibers of the dried corn husks bite into your fingers as you turn it over in your hand. Three bunches tied together with string at the top and sides make the head and hands. You notice a piece of cloth is tied around the middle to make a waist and, with a mild sense of alarm, you realize that it's a piece of an old sweatshirt you thought you'd donated weeks ago. Putting the doll down, you reach for the bottle. You wonder how old the dark green glass is, tilting it slightly to better catch the light. Hearing a slight clinking sound you hold the bottle closer to your face, peering inside. Floating inside the bottle’s murky liquid you see what you think are small white stones. As the stones settle at the bottom of the bottle, you realize that they aren’t ‘stones’, but small teeth. You drop the bottle back onto your bed in disgust. – You thought spin wildly, trying to come up with a logical explanation. Maybe it was demons? Aliens? You run through everything you learned at the library but only find more questions. ‘Why was Henry putting up missing posters for Tyler? Did he know Tyler? The symbols on the candles, the salt, trying to smudge the house - specifically my room - an old protection hymn…what is Henry so afraid of? But he doesn’t seem afraid, he seems furious.’ You drop your head onto your knees, rocking slightly. – ‘Enough is enough. I don’t care how much trouble I get into, I’m going to get answers out of Henry tomorrow - one way or another.’ Your confusion hardens into determination and you scoop all the items on your bed back into the box. Curling up under your covers, you’re starting to feel better. The fatigue from the past three nights crashes into you like a ton of brings and sleep pulls you under. – The first thing you smell is smoke, woody and thick. It makes your eyes water as you stumble through the darkness. A sickly yellow light flicks on somewhere overhead, and you see Tyler’s gap toothed smile beaming up at you from the floor. His head has been sewn onto a corn husk body, and you see the smoke is pouring out from between his teeth. His smile vanishes as he begins to roll something around in his mouth, spitting something small and white onto the floor next to him. A tooth. – You turn to run away, but feel your feet sink into the floor, the ground beginning to shift like sand beneath you the more you struggle. You scramble, frantic to try and find something to grab onto as your body is pulled further down. The room echoes with the sound of manic, childish giggling. “So close…yet so far.” You hear Tyler’s voice behind. You’re up to your neck now, sinking faster. “Don’t worry, we’ll find him.” You let out a scream as your head is submerged. Salt floods into your open mouth, pouring down your throat.. – You jolt awake mid scream, your body drenched in sweat, tangled up in your bedsheets. The room is bathed in too bright sunlight, and you stifle as sob as the nightmare begins to fade. Calming down, you’re struck by a ringing silence. If Henry had heard you scream, he was ignoring it. Feeling a stab of hurt, you wriggle out of your covers and walk into the hall. More silence. Looking down the hall, you see the doors to the bedroom and Henry’s office standing open. Looking into the office, empty, and then the bedroom, also empty, your confusion quickly mounts to panic. You search the entire house, finally standing frozen in the living room to see the front door hanging open. Henry was gone. – After a frantic call to your Mom, the rest of the following weeks are a blurry memory at best. Henry hadn't packed a bag, hadn't left a note, hadn't even shut or locked the front door in his hasty departure. You debated telling your Mom everything - about Henry's behavior, the increasingly strange things that were happening to the house, or showing her the shoebox that still sat under your bed like a land mine. But you could never quite find the words and eventually enough time passed that it seemed pointless. Even after all these years you still have more questions than answers about what happened to Henry, and Tyler. [[Story Intro]]

''4 ITEM ENDING - SM/SS/WB/CD'' You sit huddled in bed, your arms wrapped around you as you try to stop shaking. It wasn’t just Henry anymore, something was wrong with the entire house. The stains on the walls, those things moving around in the shadows, it wasn’t just your imagination. The shoe box sits in front of you, the items strewn across your covers with the addition of a small corn doll and glass bottle. You pick up the doll. – The rough fibers of the dried corn husks bite into your fingers as you turn it over in your hand. Three bunches tied together with string at the top and sides make the head and hands. You notice a piece of cloth is tied around the middle to make a waist and, with a mild sense of alarm, you realize that it's a piece of an old sweatshirt you thought you'd donated weeks ago. Putting the doll down, you reach for the bottle. You wonder how old the dark green glass is, tilting it slightly to better catch the light. Hearing a slight clinking sound you hold the bottle closer to your face, peering inside. Floating inside the bottle’s murky liquid you see what you think are small white stones. As the stones settle at the bottom of the bottle, you realize that they aren’t ‘stones’, but small teeth. You drop the bottle back onto your bed in disgust. – You thought spin wildly, trying to come up with a logical explanation. Maybe it was demons? Aliens? You run through everything you learned at the library but only find more questions. ‘Why was Henry putting up missing posters for Tyler? Did he know Tyler? The symbols on the candles, the salt, trying to smudge the house - specifically my room - an old protection hymn…what is Henry so afraid of? But he doesn’t seem afraid, he seems furious.’ You drop your head onto your knees, rocking slightly. – ‘Enough is enough. I don’t care how much trouble I get into, I’m going to get answers out of Henry tomorrow - one way or another.’ Your confusion hardens into determination and you scoop all the items on your bed back into the box. Curling up under your covers, you’re starting to feel better. The fatigue from the past three nights crashes into you like a ton of brings and sleep pulls you under. – The first thing you smell is smoke, woody and thick. It makes your eyes water as you stumble through the darkness. A sickly yellow light flicks on somewhere overhead, and you see Tyler’s gap toothed smile beaming up at you from the floor. His head has been sewn onto a corn husk body, and you see the smoke is pouring out from between his teeth. He closes his eyes and starts humming the melody that’s been stuck in your head as you turn to run. – You slam into the side of a glass bottle and fall backwards. Dazed, you look around and see that you’re surrounded by glass. Something massive and white drops next to you, and you scramble away to keep from being crushed. A tooth. You look up and into Tyler’s giant eye, staring into the neck of the bottle you’re trapped in. He reaches an oversized hand into his mouth, grabbing another tooth, and pulling. With a loud popping sound, the tooth comes free and he drops it into the bottle. – Diving out of the way again, you begin pounding on the side of the bottle with all your might. A low giggle fills your ears. “So close…yet so far.” Another tooth drops into the bottle. “Don’t worry, we’ll find him.” You let out a scream as a tooth falls on top of you. – You jolt awake mid scream, your body drenched in sweat, tangled up in your bedsheets. The room is bathed in too bright sunlight, and you stifle as sob as the nightmare begins to fade. Calming down, you’re struck by a ringing silence. If Henry had heard you scream, he was ignoring it. Feeling a stab of hurt, you wriggle out of your covers and walk into the hall. More silence. Looking down the hall, you see the doors to the bedroom and Henry’s office standing open. Looking into the office, empty, and then the bedroom, also empty, your confusion quickly mounts to panic. You search the entire house, finally standing frozen in the living room to see the front door hanging open. Henry was gone. – After a frantic call to your Mom, the rest of the following weeks are a blurry memory at best. Henry hadn't packed a bag, hadn't left a note, hadn't even shut or locked the front door in his hasty departure. You debated telling your Mom everything - about Henry's behavior, the increasingly strange things that were happening to the house, or showing her the shoebox that still sat under your bed like a land mine. But you could never quite find the words and eventually enough time passed that it seemed pointless. Even after all these years you still have more questions than answers about what happened to Henry, and Tyler. [[Story Intro]]

''5 ITEM ENDING - CAUGHT - RC/SB/SM/SS/CD'' The thing standing in the hallway staring at you may look like Henry, but when its mouth opens, only guttural choking noises come out. You slowly back away, keeping your eyes locked on the Henry-Thing before you. Until it dropped to all fours, letting out a feral shriek. – You run, white hot panic fueling your mad dash into the safety of your bedroom. Slamming the door, you throw yourself against it, bracing for an impact that never comes. The manic sounds of screaming and breaking glass fill the house, moving frantically from one room to the next. You stay curled up on the floor in front of your door, hands clamped down over your ears, your heart racing for what felt like an eternity... – Suddenly, the house falls into deathly silence. – Fear of what might be lurking outside your room keeps you firmly locked in place throughout the night, and you barely notice when the sun begins to shine in through your window. The sound of Mom's keys in the front door finally gives you permission to move, but with your legs numb you find it difficult to stand. Then the screaming starts, different from the night before. – You don't remember much after leaving your bedroom, but Mom's anguished sobbing and the sight of her crumpled on the hallway floor in front of Henry's blood soaked body remains burned into your mind. Even though the police would rule Henry's death a suicide, at some point, sleep deprivation and guilt caused you to tell Mom everything about that weekend. It was your fault Henry was gone, you had concluded, you weren't in bed like you were supposed to be, he was so angry, he couldn't handle you anymore, it was your fault - your fault. [[Story Intro]]

''5 ITEM ENDING - CAUGHT - RC/SB/SM/SS/WB'' The thing standing in the hallway staring at you may look like Henry, but when its mouth opens, only guttural choking noises come out. You slowly back away, keeping your eyes locked on the Henry-Thing before you. Until it dropped to all fours, letting out a feral shriek. – You run, white hot panic fueling your mad dash into the safety of your bedroom. Slamming the door, you throw yourself against it, bracing for an impact that never comes. The manic sounds of screaming and breaking glass fill the house, moving frantically from one room to the next. You stay curled up on the floor in front of your door, hands clamped down over your ears, your heart racing for what felt like an eternity... – Suddenly, the house falls into deathly silence. – Fear of what might be lurking outside your room keeps you firmly locked in place throughout the night, and you barely notice when the sun begins to shine in through your window. The sound of Mom's keys in the front door finally gives you permission to move, but with your legs numb you find it difficult to stand. Then the screaming starts, different from the night before. – You don't remember much after leaving your bedroom, but Mom's anguished sobbing and the sight of her crumpled on the hallway floor in front of Henry's blood soaked body remains burned into your mind. Even though the police would rule Henry's death a suicide, at some point, sleep deprivation and guilt caused you to tell Mom everything about that weekend. It was your fault Henry was gone, you had concluded, you weren't in bed like you were supposed to be, he was so angry, he couldn't handle you anymore, it was your fault - your fault. [[Story Intro]]

''5 ITEM ENDING - RC/SB/SM/WB/CD'' You lay out your collection of items, adding the strange bottle and doll to the shoe box. Staring at the items, your mind races through everything you learn at the library. Looking at each in turn the word ‘protection’, in one way or another, seemed to be attached to each. You puzzle over the glass bottle and doll, not entirely sure how it fits into the overall picture, before sweeping everything back into the shoe box. – You crawl into bed, the combined fear and confusion of the past weekend solidifying into determination. You would confront Henry tomorrow. About the box, about Tyler, about everything. You would get to the bottom of this and help Henry however you could. That’s what family was for, after all. Feeling better than you have in days, a wave of exhaustion washes over you. As you’re dragged into sleep, you are vaguely aware of the sound of breaking glass coming from deep within the house. You pull the covers over your head to dampen the noise and surrender to sleep. – You’re surrounded by candles, the light throwing twisting shadows across the floor. It takes a moment for you to realize that no, it’s not the candles, the shadows are moving on their own. Panicked, you try to move away but your body doesn’t respond. Your eyes dart around the room, trying to make sense of the scene in front of you. You can hear the melody that’s been playing over and over in your head being sung somewhere behind you, the source slowly moving into view. Tyler’s skin is twisted and rotting, his gap toothed smile seeming to split his face in two. – He sits down in front of you, continuing to hum to himself. The shadows slither across his lap but he doesn’t seem to notice, his entire attention fixed on you. “Almost had you!” He finally says, bursting into a fit of crackling laughter. “Almost had both of you!” He sputters, rocking back and forth. Your breath comes in short gasps, fear coursing through you. As suddenly as it had begun, the laughter stops. – “Oh well.” Tyler stands and the shadows climb up his legs, his torso, until you can’t make him out at all. “Better luck next time…” You hear faintly as the candles are snuffed out. As the darkness involves you, you begin to scream – Jerking yourself awake, you tumble on to the floor. Blinking into the afternoon sun, you realize that even though you’re awake, the screaming hasn’t stopped. – You don't remember much after leaving your bedroom, but Mom's anguished sobbing and the sight of her crumpled on the hallway floor in front of Henry's blood soaked body remains burned into your mind. The police interviews and investigation that followed are difficult to remember, though they eventually ruled Henry's death a suicide. Even after Mom tore apart Henry's office, the entire house really, she never found a note. The nightmares of Tyler stopped after that night, but you couldn’t stop thinking about what they meant. [[Story Intro]]

''5 ITEM ENDING - RC/SB/SS/WB/CD'' ou lay out your collection of items, adding the strange bottle and doll to the shoe box. Staring at the items, your mind races through everything you learn at the library. Looking at each in turn the word ‘protection’, in one way or another, seemed to be attached to each. You puzzle over the glass bottle and doll, not entirely sure how it fits into the overall picture, before sweeping everything back into the shoe box. – You crawl into bed, the combined fear and confusion of the past weekend solidifying into determination. You would confront Henry tomorrow. About the box, about Tyler, about everything. You would get to the bottom of this and help Henry however you could. That’s what family was for, after all. Feeling better than you have in days, a wave of exhaustion washes over you. As you’re dragged into sleep, you are vaguely aware of the sound of breaking glass coming from deep within the house. You pull the covers over your head to dampen the noise and surrender to sleep. – You’re surrounded by candles, the light throwing twisting shadows across the floor. It takes a moment for you to realize that no, it’s not the candles, the shadows are moving on their own. Panicked, you try to move away but your body doesn’t respond. Your eyes dart around the room, trying to make sense of the scene in front of you. You can hear the melody that’s been playing over and over in your head being sung somewhere behind you, the source slowly moving into view. Tyler’s skin is twisted and rotting, his gap toothed smile seeming to split his face in two. – He sits down in front of you, continuing to hum to himself. The shadows slither across his lap but he doesn’t seem to notice, his entire attention fixed on you. “Almost had you!” He finally says, bursting into a fit of crackling laughter. “Almost had both of you!” He sputters, rocking back and forth. Your breath comes in short gasps, fear coursing through you. As suddenly as it had begun, the laughter stops. – “Oh well.” Tyler stands and the shadows climb up his legs, his torso, until you can’t make him out at all. “Better luck next time…” You hear faintly as the candles are snuffed out. As the darkness involves you, you begin to scream – Jerking yourself awake, you tumble on to the floor. Blinking into the afternoon sun, you realize that even though you’re awake, the screaming hasn’t stopped. – You don't remember much after leaving your bedroom, but Mom's anguished sobbing and the sight of her crumpled on the hallway floor in front of Henry's blood soaked body remains burned into your mind. The police interviews and investigation that followed are difficult to remember, though they eventually ruled Henry's death a suicide. Even after Mom tore apart Henry's office, the entire house really, she never found a note. The nightmares of Tyler stopped after that night, but you couldn’t stop thinking about what they meant. [[Story Intro]]

''5 ITEM ENDING - RC/SM/SS/WB/CD'' You lay out your collection of items, adding the strange bottle and doll to the shoe box. Staring at the items, your mind races through everything you learn at the library. Looking at each in turn the word ‘protection’, in one way or another, seemed to be attached to each. You puzzle over the glass bottle and doll, not entirely sure how it fits into the overall picture, before sweeping everything back into the shoe box. – You crawl into bed, the combined fear and confusion of the past weekend solidifying into determination. You would confront Henry tomorrow. About the box, about Tyler, about everything. You would get to the bottom of this and help Henry however you could. That’s what family was for, after all. Feeling better than you have in days, a wave of exhaustion washes over you. As you’re dragged into sleep, you are vaguely aware of the sound of breaking glass coming from deep within the house. You pull the covers over your head to dampen the noise and surrender to sleep. – You’re surrounded by candles, the light throwing twisting shadows across the floor. It takes a moment for you to realize that no, it’s not the candles, the shadows are moving on their own. Panicked, you try to move away but your body doesn’t respond. Your eyes dart around the room, trying to make sense of the scene in front of you. You can hear the melody that’s been playing over and over in your head being sung somewhere behind you, the source slowly moving into view. Tyler’s skin is twisted and rotting, his gap toothed smile seeming to split his face in two. – He sits down in front of you, continuing to hum to himself. The shadows slither across his lap but he doesn’t seem to notice, his entire attention fixed on you. “Almost had you!” He finally says, bursting into a fit of crackling laughter. “Almost had both of you!” He sputters, rocking back and forth. Your breath comes in short gasps, fear coursing through you. As suddenly as it had begun, the laughter stops. – “Oh well.” Tyler stands and the shadows climb up his legs, his torso, until you can’t make him out at all. “Better luck next time…” You hear faintly as the candles are snuffed out. As the darkness involves you, you begin to scream – Jerking yourself awake, you tumble on to the floor. Blinking into the afternoon sun, you realize that even though you’re awake, the screaming hasn’t stopped. – You don't remember much after leaving your bedroom, but Mom's anguished sobbing and the sight of her crumpled on the hallway floor in front of Henry's blood soaked body remains burned into your mind. The police interviews and investigation that followed are difficult to remember, though they eventually ruled Henry's death a suicide. Even after Mom tore apart Henry's office, the entire house really, she never found a note. The nightmares of Tyler stopped after that night, but you couldn’t stop thinking about what they meant. [[Story Intro]]

''5 ITEM ENDING - SURVIVED - RC/SB/SM/SS/CD'' You lay out your collection of items, adding the strange corn doll to the shoe box. Staring at the items, your mind races through everything you learn at the library. Looking at each in turn the word ‘protection’, in one way or another, seemed to be attached to each. You puzzle over the corn doll, not entirely sure how it fits into the overall picture, before sweeping everything back into the shoe box. – You crawl into bed, the combined fear and confusion of the past weekend solidifying into determination. You would confront Henry tomorrow. About the box, about Tyler, about everything. You would get to the bottom of this and help Henry however you could. That’s what family was for, after all. Feeling better than you have in days, a wave of exhaustion washes over you. As you’re dragged into sleep, you are vaguely aware of the sound of breaking glass coming from deep within the house. You pull the covers over your head to dampen the noise and surrender to sleep. – You’re surrounded by candles, the light throwing twisting shadows across the floor. It takes a moment for you to realize that no, it’s not the candles, the shadows are moving on their own. Panicked, you try to move away but your body doesn’t respond. Your eyes dart around the room, trying to make sense of the scene in front of you. You can hear the melody that’s been playing over and over in your head being sung somewhere behind you, the source slowly moving into view. Tyler’s skin is twisted and rotting, his gap toothed smile seeming to split his face in two. – He sits down in front of you, continuing to hum to himself. The shadows slither across his lap but he doesn’t seem to notice, his entire attention fixed on you. “Almost had you!” He finally says, bursting into a fit of crackling laughter. “Almost had both of you!” He sputters, rocking back and forth. Your breath comes in short gasps, fear coursing through you. As suddenly as it had begun, the laughter stops. – “Oh well.” Tyler stands and the shadows climb up his legs, his torso, until you can’t make him out at all. “Better luck next time…” You hear faintly as the candles are snuffed out. As the darkness involves you, you begin to scream – Jerking yourself awake, you tumble on to the floor. Blinking into the afternoon sun, you realize that even though you’re awake, the screaming hasn’t stopped. – You don't remember much after leaving your bedroom, but Mom's anguished sobbing and the sight of her crumpled on the hallway floor in front of Henry's blood soaked body remains burned into your mind. The police interviews and investigation that followed are difficult to remember, though they eventually ruled Henry's death a suicide. Even after Mom tore apart Henry's office, the entire house really, she never found a note. The nightmares of Tyler stopped after that night, but you couldn’t stop thinking about what they meant. [[Story Intro]]

''5 ITEM ENDING - SURVIVED - RC/SB/SM/SS/WB'' You lay out your collection of items, adding the strange bottle to the shoe box. Staring at the items, your mind races through everything you learn at the library. Looking at each in turn the word ‘protection’, in one way or another, seemed to be attached to each. You puzzle over the glass bottle, not entirely sure how it fits into the overall picture, before sweeping everything back into the shoe box. – You crawl into bed, the combined fear and confusion of the past weekend solidifying into determination. You would confront Henry tomorrow. About the box, about Tyler, about everything. You would get to the bottom of this and help Henry however you could. That’s what family was for, after all. Feeling better than you have in days, a wave of exhaustion washes over you. As you’re dragged into sleep, you are vaguely aware of the sound of breaking glass coming from deep within the house. You pull the covers over your head to dampen the noise and surrender to sleep. – You’re surrounded by candles, the light throwing twisting shadows across the floor. It takes a moment for you to realize that no, it’s not the candles, the shadows are moving on their own. Panicked, you try to move away but your body doesn’t respond. Your eyes dart around the room, trying to make sense of the scene in front of you. You can hear the melody that’s been playing over and over in your head being sung somewhere behind you, the source slowly moving into view. Tyler’s skin is twisted and rotting, his gap toothed smile seeming to split his face in two. – He sits down in front of you, continuing to hum to himself. The shadows slither across his lap but he doesn’t seem to notice, his entire attention fixed on you. “Almost had you!” He finally says, bursting into a fit of crackling laughter. “Almost had both of you!” He sputters, rocking back and forth. Your breath comes in short gasps, fear coursing through you. As suddenly as it had begun, the laughter stops. – “Oh well.” Tyler stands and the shadows climb up his legs, his torso, until you can’t make him out at all. “Better luck next time…” You hear faintly as the candles are snuffed out. As the darkness involves you, you begin to scream – Jerking yourself awake, you tumble on to the floor. Blinking into the afternoon sun, you realize that even though you’re awake, the screaming hasn’t stopped. – You don't remember much after leaving your bedroom, but Mom's anguished sobbing and the sight of her crumpled on the hallway floor in front of Henry's blood soaked body remains burned into your mind. The police interviews and investigation that followed are difficult to remember, though they eventually ruled Henry's death a suicide. Even after Mom tore apart Henry's office, the entire house really, she never found a note. The nightmares of Tyler stopped after that night, but you couldn’t stop thinking about what they meant. [[Story Intro]]

''5 ITEM ENDING - SB/SM/SS/WB/CD'' You lay out your collection of items, adding the strange bottle and doll to the shoe box. Staring at the items, your mind races through everything you learn at the library. Looking at each in turn the word ‘protection’, in one way or another, seemed to be attached to each. You puzzle over the glass bottle and doll, not entirely sure how it fits into the overall picture, before sweeping everything back into the shoe box. – You crawl into bed, the combined fear and confusion of the past weekend solidifying into determination. You would confront Henry tomorrow. About the box, about Tyler, about everything. You would get to the bottom of this and help Henry however you could. That’s what family was for, after all. Feeling better than you have in days, a wave of exhaustion washes over you. As you’re dragged into sleep, you are vaguely aware of the sound of breaking glass coming from deep within the house. You pull the covers over your head to dampen the noise and surrender to sleep. – You’re surrounded by candles, the light throwing twisting shadows across the floor. It takes a moment for you to realize that no, it’s not the candles, the shadows are moving on their own. Panicked, you try to move away but your body doesn’t respond. Your eyes dart around the room, trying to make sense of the scene in front of you. You can hear the melody that’s been playing over and over in your head being sung somewhere behind you, the source slowly moving into view. Tyler’s skin is twisted and rotting, his gap toothed smile seeming to split his face in two. – He sits down in front of you, continuing to hum to himself. The shadows slither across his lap but he doesn’t seem to notice, his entire attention fixed on you. “Almost had you!” He finally says, bursting into a fit of crackling laughter. “Almost had both of you!” He sputters, rocking back and forth. Your breath comes in short gasps, fear coursing through you. As suddenly as it had begun, the laughter stops. – “Oh well.” Tyler stands and the shadows climb up his legs, his torso, until you can’t make him out at all. “Better luck next time…” You hear faintly as the candles are snuffed out. As the darkness involves you, you begin to scream – Jerking yourself awake, you tumble on to the floor. Blinking into the afternoon sun, you realize that even though you’re awake, the screaming hasn’t stopped. – You don't remember much after leaving your bedroom, but Mom's anguished sobbing and the sight of her crumpled on the hallway floor in front of Henry's blood soaked body remains burned into your mind. The police interviews and investigation that followed are difficult to remember, though they eventually ruled Henry's death a suicide. Even after Mom tore apart Henry's office, the entire house really, she never found a note. The nightmares of Tyler stopped after that night, but you couldn’t stop thinking about what they meant. [[Story Intro]]

''NIGHT 1 - CAUGHT - 0'' "Bud, what are you doing up at this hour?" Dang. You fumble for an excuse, finally landing on not being able to sleep. Henry stares at you for a second before breaking into an off kilter smile. "Same here, why don't we both head back to bed huh?" He ushers you back to your room, waiting until you're under the covers before quietly shutting your door. You listen for a moment, then hear him retreat back in the direction of the master bedroom. – Henry's usual wake up knock the next morning is much earlier than you'd like. You groan and flop back onto your pillow, rubbing your face with your hands. Sitting down to breakfast, you brace yourself for a "talking to" that never comes. You think about asking if Henry has any more "work" to do, but decide not to press your luck. Instead, you ask if he has any plans for the day. He gives you a small smile before tapping the side of his head with an index finger. – "Well, I've got some more work to knock out this evening - but - " he says, interrupting you mid-glare "if you don't tell your Mom about the back to back late nights...we can swing by that game store you like so much this afternoon". You aren’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth. You spend the day together, often drifting into an uneasy silence. Though, returning home with a copy of "Legend of Zeke" clasped in your hands does wonders to lighten your mood. As soon as you're through the front door, Henry heads in the direction of his office. You spend the remainder of the evening alone, again, and eventually head to your bedroom, wanting to catch up on the sleep you missed the night before. – As you're beginning to drift off, you hear a light bang of the office door opening and closing. You sit up, and glance at your watch - 12am. Climbing silently out of bed, you press your ear to the wall and listen. Goosebumps race down your arms as you hear Henry humming, the lilting notes sounding almost like a lullaby. The melody moves from the office into the hallway and eventually stops. You slide towards your bedroom door before being struck by the smell of something thick and earthy. Looking down, you can see thin tendrils of smoke creeping under your door. – What the heck is Henry doing... You wait for the sound of Henry moving deeper into the house before opening your door and following. [[N2-C-0]] [[N2-S-0]] [[N2-S-SS]] [[N2-C-SS]] [[N2-C-SM]] [[N2-S-SM]] [[N2-SS-SM]]

''NIGHT 1 - CAUGHT - RC'' You barely manage to slide the candles up the sleeve of your sweatshirt, silently praying that Henry didn’t notice. He looks at you in surprise, before his eyes narrow slightly. "Bud, you're not supposed to be up this late..." You can't tell if you're imagining the wary look in his eyes as you fumble for an excuse, finally landing on not being able to sleep. He gives you a soft smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes before walking you back to your room. – Listening carefully for a few seconds, you finally hear Henry’s bedroom door close. You let out a breath you didn't realize you were holding, and let the candles fall out of your sleeve and into your bed. Running a finger along the candles uneven sides, you notice several grooves carved into the wax. Moving over to your window for more light, you see a series of strange and quickly scratched symbols. With a shudder, you grab a shoe box from under your bed, tucking the candles inside. You aren't sure what's going on, but the sudden adrenaline crash from being discovered makes it easy for you to fall asleep. – Henry's usual wake up knock the next morning is much earlier, and louder, than you would have liked. "Breakfast time, come on sleepy head", he calls through your door. You can feel Henry's eyes on you as you sit down to breakfast, bracing yourself for a "talking to". Henry sits in silence, watching you eat. You try making a couple of jokes to lighten the mood, before apologizing for being out of bed, adding that a weird noise had woken you up. Henry stiffens slightly, and for a second you think something like fear flashes across his face before being replaced by a tense smile. "Probably just the wind or the house settling, I wouldn't worry about it too much." – Henry tells you that he needs to run some errands in town and he wants you to come with him. "Can't have your Mom hearing that I kept you cooped up inside the house all weekend". His tone is almost playful, but there's an edge to his voice that silences any potential objection from you. Sitting in the car with Henry, you find your thoughts drifting back to the black candles you found the night before. Your fingers prickle at the memory of running your hands along the soft, waxy sides. Though you couldn’t be sure, they felt home made. The symbols on the side seemed familiar, but you can’t place where you’d seen them before. Your attention snaps back to the present as you realize that you’re close to your favorite game store. Thinking it over, you decide to roll the dice and ask if you can peek your head in. Henry gives you the first warm smile of the day and agrees. – Returning home with a copy of "Legend of Zeke" in your hands, the unease from the past 24 hours begins to fade to the back of your mind. You immediately settle in front of the TV and look over at Henry in excitement. Your smile fades as you see he’s halfway out of the livingroom, heading in the direction of his office. "I've got some more work I need to finish up, but there's some left over pizza for dinner whenever you're hungry." He’s gone before you have the chance to respond. – You spend the remainder of the evening alone and eventually head to your bedroom, wanting to catch up on the sleep you missed the night before. As you're beginning to drift off, you hear the light bang of a door opening and closing. You sit up, and glance at your watch - 12am. Climbing silently out of bed, you press your ear to the wall and listen. Goosebumps race down your arms as you hear Henry humming, the lilting notes sounding almost like a lullaby. The melody moves from the office into the hallway and eventually stops. You slide towards your bedroom door before being struck by the smell of something thick and earthy. Looking down, you can see thin tendrils of smoke creeping under your door. – What the heck is Henry doing... You wait for the sound of Henry moving deeper into the house before opening your door and following. You hesitate at your bedroom door, debating if you should risk going out again. Glancing towards the shoebox under your bed, you steel your resolve. Something is going on, and you silently open your door to investigate. [[N2-C-RC]] [[N2-C-RC-SM]] [[N2-S-RC]] [[N2-S-RC-SM]] [[N2-C-RC-SS]] [[N2-S-RC-SS]] [[N2-RC-SM-SS]]

''NIGHT 1 - CAUGHT - SB'' You shove both of your hands into your pants pockets, pressing the strange bag down and praying that Henry hadn’t noticed. He looks at you in surprise, before his eyes narrow slightly. "You know you're not supposed to be up this late..." You can't tell if you're imagining the wary look in his eyes as you fumble for an excuse, finally landing on not being able to sleep. He gives you a soft smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes before walking you back to your room. – You listen carefully for a few seconds until you hear Henry’s bedroom door closing. Letting out a breath you didn't realize you were holding, you pull out the bag and look inside. The bag is filled with what looks like black sand. Rubbing some between your fingers, it has a slightly tacky quality and before you stop to think you touch a small amount to your tongue… It's salt, not sand. Grabbing a shoe box from under your bed, you tuck the bag inside. You aren't sure what's going on, but the sudden adrenaline crash from being discovered makes it easy for you to fall asleep. – Henry's usual wake up knock the next morning is much earlier, and louder, than you would have liked. "Breakfast time", he calls through your door. You can feel Henry's eyes on you as you sit down to breakfast, bracing yourself for a "talking to". Henry sits in silence, watching you eat. You try making a couple of jokes to lighten the mood, before apologizing for being out of bed, adding that a weird noise had woken you up. Henry stiffens slightly, and for a second you think something like fear flashes across his face before being replaced by a tense smile. "Probably just the wind or the house settling, I wouldn't worry about it too much." – Henry tells you that he needs to run some errands in town and he wants you to come with him. "Can't have your Mom hearing that I kept you cooped up inside the house all weekend". His tone is almost playful, but there's an edge to his voice that silences any potential objection from you. Sitting in the car, you find your thoughts drifting back to the bag of salt sitting under your bed. You’d never seen black salt before, but the little bag it was in felt strangely familiar. Your attention snaps back to the present as you realize that you’re close to your favorite game store. Thinking it over, you decide to roll the dice and ask if you can peek your head in. Henry gives you the first warm smile of the day and agrees. – Returning home with a copy of "Legend of Zeke" in your hands, the unease from the past 24 hours begins to fade to the back of your mind. You immediately settle in front of the TV and look over at Henry in excitement. Your smile fades as you see he’s halfway out of the livingroom, heading in the direction of his office. "I've got some more work I need to finish up, but there's some left over pizza for dinner whenever you're hungry." He’s gone before you have the chance to respond. – You spend the remainder of the evening alone and eventually head to your bedroom, wanting to catch up on the sleep you missed the night before. As you're beginning to drift off, you hear the light bang of a door opening and closing. You sit up, and glance at your watch - 12am. Climbing silently out of bed, you press your ear to the wall and listen. Goosebumps race down your arms as you hear Henry humming, the lilting notes sounding almost like a lullaby. The melody moves from the office into the hallway and eventually stops. You slide towards your bedroom door before being struck by the smell of something thick and earthy. Looking down, you can see thin tendrils of smoke creeping under your door. – What the heck is Henry doing... You wait for the sound of Henry moving deeper into the house before opening your door and following. You hesitate at your bedroom door, debating if you should risk going out again. Glancing towards the shoebox under your bed, you steel your resolve. Something is going on, and you silently open your door to investigate. [[N2-C-SB]] [[N2-S-SB]] [[N2-C-SB-SS]] [[N2-S-SB-SS]] [[N2-C-SB-SM]] [[N2-S-SB-SM]] [[N2-SB-SS-SM]]

''NIGHT 1 - RC/SB'' Back in your bedroom you drop the candles and small drawstring bag onto your desk, using the light from your window to see better. Looking around your room, you grab a shoebox from your closet before turning your attention back to the items on your desk. Running a finger along the side of the candles you pause and squint at several long grooves. Turning them for a better look you see a collection of angular symbols have been carved into the soft, uneven wax. They look familiar, but you can’t place where you would have seen these shapes before. You put the candles inside the waiting shoebox before picking up the bag. – Pulling the bag open, it’s filled with what looks like black sand. You reach in, rubbing the course grains between your fingers. It has a tacky quality to it, and before you can stop to think you touch your fingers to your tongue. It’s salt, not sand. Tugging the bag shut, careful not to spill the contents, you drop the bag next to the candles. You push the box under your bed and climb under the covers. – You wonder what Henry is trying to hide from you. While the candles are odd and you have no idea what Henry would need black salt for, you assume there’s a reasonable explanation. Closing your eyes, you have a vague memory of something your Grandmother used to say but sleep takes over before you can fully remember. – A hard knock on your bedroom door pulls you awake. Even though there’s light slipping into through the windows, the house seems darker than normal as you move into the hallway. Shadows seem to climb higher up on the walls, and the air has a chill to it. Sitting down you jump when Henry drops a plate down in front of you, spilling a few pieces of eggs onto the table in the process. You can’t help but stare at him as he slides into the chair across from you. His hair looks wild, sticking out at odd angles, and his usual easy going expression has been replaced with a look of annoyance. – Nibbling at your eggs, you ask Henry if he has any plans for today. He gives you a silent glare, reaching for the paper. You blink in confusion, unsure how to react to the waves of irritation radiating from him. You try again, asking if he’s got more work to do. A hissing sigh comes from behind the paper and he finally looks at you with narrowed eyes. “Since you can’t even give me a few minutes to myself, I’m going to go run some errands. I don’t really care what you do while I’m gone.” He almost spits the words at you before returning to the paper. You feel a knot beginning to form in your stomach and you pick at your breakfast in silence – Once Henry leaves you decide to try tidying up the kitchen, hoping that it’ll make a good peace offering for whatever you’ve done to make him upset with you. As you move through the house scrubbing at various stains on the walls and floors, your eyes periodically drift in the direction of your bedroom. Given Henry’s mood this morning, there was no way you wanted to ask him about the contents of the shoebox. Distracted while mulling over the previous night, you knock into a salt shaker while cleaning off the dining table. Instinctively, you take a small pinch and toss it over your shoulder. You pause, suddenly hearing your grandmother's husky voice in your head. ‘Keeps the devil from sneaking up on you,’ The memory of that old saying of hers brings a small smile to your face. That’s what the bag of black salt reminded you of. – You abandon your cleaning efforts, walking back into your bedroom and grab the box from under your bed. Pulling out the candles, the day light gives a better look at the symbols scratched into the waxy sides. Tracing the lines with your fingers, you realize why they look so familiar. While sleeping over at your friend Aimee’s house recently, you had watched an old horror movie together. There was a big stone carved with symbols that was being used to imprison a demon. Moving the stone ends up breaking the seal, but you’d passed out before the movie ended. You drop the candles back into the box and push it back under your bed. With a sign, you resume tidying up the house. – As the sun begins to set you drop down in front of the TV, turning lights on around the living room to try and push back the growing gloom. The screen comes to life in the middle of a “Breaking News” segment, and you look around for the remote. ‘...if you have any information regarding the disappearance of Tyler Stocktan, a local Ravenside Elementary student, please call the number on screen.’ Hearing the name of the school where Henry works, you pause and stare at the screen. – ‘Young Tyler was reported missing late last week, sources say, after failing to return home from school. This is but one of a string of similar disappearances that have been plaguing the Nightshade Glade area since last June…’ A photo appears on screen of a boy with freckles, shaggy brown hair, and a massive grin, made somehow more endearing by a missing front tooth. After a small back and forth between the two talking heads on screen, the segment cuts to a commercial. – You jump at the sound of the front door banging open and Henry stalks into the house. He gives you a quick glance before heading in the direction of his office, calling over his shoulder “Keep it down.” You jump again as the door bangs shut behind him. A barrage of thoughts stampede through your mind; Is that why Henry has been acting so strange? He works at Ravenside, did he know Tyler? Was he helping with the search party, or the investigation? Why wasn’t he just talking to you about this instead of shutting you out? You spend the remainder of the night alone with your thoughts, and eventually head to your bedroom, wanting to catch up on the sleep you missed the night before. – As you're beginning to drift off, you hear the light bang of a door opening and closing. You sit up, and glance at your watch - 12am. Climbing silently out of bed, you press your ear to the wall and listen. Goosebumps race down your arms as you hear Henry humming, the lilting notes sounding almost like a lullaby. The melody moves from the office into the hallway and eventually stops. You slide towards your bedroom door before being struck by the smell of something thick and earthy. Looking down, you can see thin tendrils of smoke creeping under your door. – What the heck is Henry doing... You wait for the sound of Henry moving deeper into the house before opening your door and following. You hesitate at your bedroom door, debating if you should risk leaving the safety of your room. Given Henry’s mood today…you shudder to think what his reaction might be to finding you out of bed. Glancing towards the shoebox under your bed, you steel your resolve. Something is going on, and you silently open your door to investigate. [[RN2-C-RC-SB]] [[RN2-S-RC-SB]] [[RN2-S-RC-SB-SS]] [[RN2-C-RC-SB-SS]] [[RN2-C-RC-SB-SM]] [[RN2-S-RC-SB-SM]] [[RN2-RC-SB-SS-SM]]

''NIGHT 1 - SURVIVED - 0'' Sinking into bed, you can't help but feel like an idiot. Henry's probably just stressed with whatever is going on at work and can't sleep. You drift off almost at once, trying to put his odd behavior out of your mind. – Henry's usual wake up knock the next morning is much earlier than you would have liked. You groggily munch on your plate of eggs and absently ask if Henry has more "work" to do today. He seems to stiffen slightly, but shakes his head. "Nah Bud, I should be set for the weekend, sorry about that" You watch him carefully, trying to decide if you believe him. With a small laugh and a smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes, he asks if you want to come with him to run a few errands. "Maybe we can even swing by that game store you like so much?" If this was his way of making up for ignoring you all last night...it was working. – You spend the day together, often drifting into an uneasy silence. Though, returning home with a copy of "Legend of Zeke" clasped in your hands does lighten your mood. Henry sits down on the couch behind you to watch you play as you excitedly begin explaining the game's story, and some rumored secret levels you'd heard from your friends at school. – After a while, when you glance over your shoulder to ask Henry a question, you find the couch empty. Confused, you get up and look towards the hallway. You are once again greeted by the closed office door - light leaking out from beneath it. ‘Must be work again’, you think half-heartedly and return to your game. Eventually you decide to head to bed, wanting to catch up on the sleep you missed the night before. – As you're beginning to drift off, you hear a light bang of the office door opening and closing. You sit up, and glance at your watch - 12am. Climbing silently out of bed, you press your ear to the wall and listen. Goosebumps race down your arms as you hear Henry humming, the lilting notes sounding almost like a lullaby. The melody moves from the office into the hallway and eventually stops. You slide towards your bedroom door before being struck by the smell of something thick and earthy. Looking down, you can see thin tendrils of smoke creeping under your door. – What the heck is Henry doing... You wait for the sound of Henry moving deeper into the house before opening your door and following. [[N2-C-0]] [[N2-S-0]] [[N2-S-SS]] [[N2-C-SS]] [[N2-C-SM]] [[N2-S-SM]] [[N2-SS-SM]]

''NIGHT 1 - SURVIVED - RC'' Back in your bedroom, you look down at the black candles in your hand. Running a finger along the candles uneven sides, they feel home made, you notice several grooves carved into the wax. Moving over to your window for more light, you see a series of strange and quickly scratched symbols. You think you’ve seen these types of symbols somewhere else, but you can’t remember where. With a shudder, you grab a shoe box from under your bed, tucking the candles inside. Curling up under the covers, you feel like you’ve seen those symbols somewhere before but sleep descends before you can place it. – Henry's usual wake up knock the next morning is much earlier, and louder, than you would have liked. "Breakfast time", he calls through your door. You and Henry chat over plates of scrambled eggs though in reality it's you who does most of the talking, Henry's main contribution to the conversation being various noncommittal noises. “I’ve got some errands I need to run today, think you can keep yourself entertained?”, he eventually asks. You agree, trying not to let the disappointment show on your face. He seems to catch it anyway and smiles at you, a real one this time, telling you that he won't be long. – Once Henry leaves you flop down in front of the TV but find yourself unable to focus, your thoughts drifting back to the box under your bed. Mulling over the previous night, you realize where you’ve seen symbols like the ones carved into candles; Mom’s old metal band T-Shirts from when she was your age. You abandon the TV and head into the master bedroom, digging through the closet to check your hunch. Staring at the shirt the symbols are close, but not a match. You smile slightly. This shirt used to scare you as a kid, but Mom would always laugh and say ‘Things that look scary aren’t always evil’. Folding the shirt and tucking it back into the closet, your return to the living room. – You spend the day switching between random shows and playing video games until the sun has begun to set, casting the living room in long shadows. When Henry finally returns, you stare at him in silent judgement. After his first few lame excuses; traffic, how long the lines were, blah blah, he finally sighs. "I messed up, I'm sorry, but maybe..." He reaches into one of the bags he had set down on the dining table. "This will earn me some brownie points?" – He holds out a copy of "Legend of Zeke". You continue to stare just long enough to watch him squirm before breaking into a smile and bounding over, wrapping your arms around him in a hug. As you do he leans away from you and you freeze, feeling a mixture of mortification and rejection. He pats you on the head and gives you a warped smile. "Have fun, I'm gonna be in my office for a bit. Leftover pizza for dinner sound good?" Before you can respond, he's gone. You spend the remainder of the evening alone, eventually heading to your bedroom to catch up on the sleep you missed the night before. – As you're beginning to drift off, you hear the light bang of a door opening and closing. You sit up, and glance at your watch - 12am. Climbing silently out of bed, you press your ear to the wall and listen. Goosebumps race down your arms as you hear Henry humming, the lilting notes sounding almost like a lullaby. The melody moves from the office into the hallway and eventually stops. You slide towards your bedroom door before being struck by the smell of something thick and earthy. Looking down, you can see thin tendrils of smoke creeping under your door. – What the heck is Henry doing... You wait for the sound of Henry moving deeper into the house before opening your door and following. [[N2-C-RC]] [[N2-C-RC-SM]] [[N2-S-RC]] [[N2-S-RC-SM]] [[N2-C-RC-SS]] [[N2-S-RC-SS]] [[N2-RC-SM-SS]]

''NIGHT 1 - SURVIVED - SB'' Back in your bedroom you look down at the small drawstring bag in your hand, and move towards the window for more light. Pulling the bag open, it’s filled with what looks like black sand. You reach in, rubbing the course grains between your fingers. It has a tacky quality to it, and before you can stop to think you touch your fingers to your tongue. It’s salt, not sand. – Tugging the bag closed, you glance around your bedroom and grab a shoe box from under your bed, dropping the bag inside. Curling up under the covers, you wrack your brain to come up with a reasonable explanation for why Henry would have hidden a bag of black salt in the house. Closing your eyes, you have a vague memory of something your Grandmother used to say but sleep takes over before you can fully remember. – Henry's usual wake up knock the next morning is much earlier, and louder, than you would have liked. "Breakfast time", he calls through your door. You and Henry chat over plates of scrambled eggs though in reality it's you who does most of the talking, Henry's main contribution to the conversation being various noncommittal noises. “I’ve got some errands I need to run today, think you can keep yourself entertained?”, he eventually asks. You agree, trying not to let the disappointment show on your face. He seems to catch it anyway and smiles at you, a real one this time, telling you that he won't be long. – Once Henry leaves you flop down in front of the TV but find yourself unable to focus, your thoughts drifting back to the box under your bed. Abandoning the squawking TV, you walk into your bedroom and pull the box out from under your bed. Picking up the draw string bag, you can’t help but think it looks familiar. Tossing it between your hands, listening to the sound of the salt shifting back and forth. It dawns on you that your grandmother had little bags like this all over her house. You don’t recall her having any black salt, but you do remember that she would insist you throw a pinch of salt over your left shoulder if the shaker ever got knocked over. ‘Keeps the devil from sneaking up on you’, as she liked to say. – With a small smile at the memory, you drop the bag back into the box and return to the living room. You spend the day switching between random shows and playing video games until the sun has begun to set, casting the living room in long shadows. When Henry finally returns, you stare at him in silent judgement. After his first few lame excuses; traffic, how long the lines were, blah blah, he finally sighs. "I messed up, I'm sorry, but maybe..." He reaches into one of the bags he had set down on the dining table. "This will earn me some brownie points?" – He holds out a copy of "Legend of Zeke". You continue to stare just long enough to watch him squirm before breaking into a smile and bounding over, wrapping your arms around him in a hug. As you do he leans away from you and you freeze, feeling a mixture of mortification and rejection. He pats you on the head and gives you a warped smile. "Have fun, I'm gonna be in my office for a bit. Leftover pizza for dinner sound good?" Before you can respond, he's gone. You spend the remainder of the evening alone, eventually heading to your bedroom to catch up on the sleep you missed the night before. – As you're beginning to drift off, you hear the light bang of a door opening and closing. You sit up, and glance at your watch - 12am. Climbing silently out of bed, you press your ear to the wall and listen. Goosebumps race down your arms as you hear Henry humming, the lilting notes sounding almost like a lullaby. The melody moves from the office into the hallway and eventually stops. You slide towards your bedroom door before being struck by the smell of something thick and earthy. Looking down, you can see thin tendrils of smoke creeping under your door. – What the heck is Henry doing... You wait for the sound of Henry moving deeper into the house before opening your door and following. [[N2-C-SB]] [[N2-S-SB]] [[N2-C-SB-SS]] [[N2-S-SB-SS]] [[N2-C-SB-SM]] [[N2-S-SB-SM]] [[N2-SB-SS-SM]]

''NIGHT 2 - CAUGHT - 0'' You're already apologizing as Henry's gaze lands on you. He shakes his head and rubs at his eyes. You can feel the heat rising to your cheeks as he points in the direction of your bedroom. "It's way past your bedtime, Bud. You gotta try to get some sleep." He watches you closely as you climb back into your bed, starting for a few seconds too long before shutting the door. Looking at the ceiling you try to push down the embarrassment of having been caught. As you begin to drift to sleep, you can’t shake the feeling that something was definitely off with Henry. Before he shut the door, you could have sworn he looked scared. – Three soft taps drag you awake the next morning, Henry's voice floating through the door to let you know breakfast is ready. Already sitting at the table, Henry is staring at the morning paper. You can’t help but stare as you take your seat across from him, noticing the dark circle forming under his eyes. Feeling your eyes on him, Henry puts down the paper and offers you a lopsided grin. “If you take a picture, it’ll last longer.” He teases before his expression turns serious. "We can't make this a habit, kiddo. No more sneaking out of your room at night. Got me?” You nod, fighting back the urge to argue. – "Since you've clearly got energy to burn, how about you take your bike out today. No cure for insomnia like some fresh air". You can tell by his tone this isn't a suggestion. The air outside is humid but pleasant, not at the stages of unbearable summer heat. You ride aimlessly around your neighborhood letting your thoughts wander. Henry was absolutely acting strange, even by your standards, but without something more concrete to go on all you were left with were questions. You could just ask him point blank what was going on, but what would that accomplish? He probably wouldn't tell you anyway. Wouldn't want you to worry. – The street lights flicking on makes you realize how late it's gotten and you head back home. You hear clattering sounds coming from the kitchen and peek your head in to see Henry cooking dinner. "Hey Bud, how was the bike ride?" You start setting the table, smiling to yourself. The normalcy of the scene, Henry banging away in the kitchen, wearing Mom’s flowery apron, eases the tension you've been feeling for the past two days. – The feeling doesn't last long. While dinner starts off pleasantly enough. Henry asks you about your new game and seems to genuinely be involved in the conversation, eventually his attention beginning to drift and his eyes regularly flicking to the wall clock. "Alright, let's get the dishes knocked out and hit the hay. I think we both could use a good night of sleep.", Henry says as he starts to clear the table, his dinner mostly untouched. Laying on top of the covers you watch the clock and wait. – As the time ticks over from 11:59pm to 12:00am, the sound of Henry's bedroom door opening drifts down the hall. You move towards your own door, holding your breath and listening closely for the sound of his shuffling feet. At first you're greeted by silence before hearing a faint rummaging sound from the back of the house followed by quickly moving footsteps in the hall. More rummaging. You quietly breathe out and slip into the hallway. [[0-END-C]] [[0-END-S]] [[1-END-C-CD]] [[1-END-S-CD]] [[1-END-C-WB]] [[1-END-S-WB]] [[2-END-CD-WB]]

''NIGHT 2 - CAUGHT - RC'' You're already apologizing as Henry's gaze lands on you, heat rushing to your cheeks as he points in the direction of your bedroom. "Get to your room, it’s way past your bedtime." He watches you closely as you climb back into your bed, starting for a few seconds too long before shutting the door firmly behind him. You can feel your heart hammering, embarrassed at having been caught. As your heart rate slows, you burrow deeper into your covers and hope that Henry won’t still be upset with you in the morning. – The series of sharp knocks on your door the following more sends a stab of guilt through you. 'He must still be mad...', you think to yourself as you climb out of bed. Already sitting down at the table, Henry's face is covered by the morning paper. You offer another apology as you take your seat, shifting uncomfortably at the silence that follows. Henry eventually lets out a sigh and sets the paper down. You blink back surprise at how exhausted he looks and the dark circles forming under his eyes. “You know the rules, your Mom was pretty clear before she left.” There’s an edge to his voice that causes you to swallow involuntarily. Henry’s voice softens slightly. – "I’ll let it go this time. But, since you've clearly got energy to burn, take your bike out today. No cure for insomnia like some fresh air", he says before returning to the paper, signalling the end of the conversation. The air outside is humid but pleasant, not at the stages of unbearable summer heat. You ride aimlessly around your neighborhood letting your thoughts wander to the candles stashed beneath your bed. You’re struck by a memory of an old horror movie you’d watched at your friend Aimee’s house; there was a big stone carved with symbols that was being used to imprison a demon. While the symbols in the movie and the ones carved into those candles might not be an exact match, you think they’re similar. – The street lights flicking on makes you realize how late it's gotten and you head back home. You hear clattering sounds coming from the kitchen and peek your head in to see Henry cooking dinner. He glances your direction and gives you a tired smile. “Set the table, will ya?”, he asks before turning back to the stove. Grabbing plates and forks, you can’t shake the feeling that the bags under Henry’s eyes have gotten darker since this morning. – Between bites of food, you make several attempts to strike up a conversation with Henry but your questions are mostly met with noncommittal noises. Eventually his attention starts to drift, his eyes regularly flicking to the wall clock. "It’s getting late, let’s get the dishes done. I’m going to call it an early night" Henry finally says and starts to clear the table, his dinner mostly untouched. Laying on top of the covers you watch the clock and wait. – As the time ticks over from 11:59pm to 12:00am, the sound of Henry's bedroom door opening drifts down the hall. You move towards your own door, holding your breath and listening closely for the sound of his shuffling feet. At first you're greeted by silence before hearing a faint rummaging sound from the back of the house followed by quickly moving footsteps in the hall. More rummaging. You quietly breathe out and slip into the hallway. [[1-END-C]] [[1-END-S]] [[2-END-C-RC-CD]] [[2-END-S-RC-CD]] [[2-END-C-RC-WB]] [[2-END-S-RC-WB]] [[3-END-RC-WB-CD]]

''NIGHT 2 - CAUGHT - RC/SM'' You’re already apologizing as Henry’s glare lands on you, hoping it’s enough to cover the sound of you stuffing the old sheet music into your pants pocket. "Bed. Now." He says through gritted teeth, jabbing a finger in the direction of your bedroom. His eyes follow you as you climb back into your bed, starting for a few seconds too long before shutting the door hard enough to make you jump. You take several deep breaths to calm your racing heart before carefully pull the old sheet music from your pocket. – Now wrinkled, the notes are harder to make out, but you remember the basics of how to read music. It doesn't take long for you to realize this is the same song you heard Henry humming from his office. You grab the shoe box from under your bed and place the folded sheet music inside, next to the black candles. Burrowing under your covers, with the melody looping in your head, you silently hope that Henry won’t still be upset with you in the morning. – Three sharp bangs on your bedroom door the following morning jerk you awake. Already sitting down at the table, Henry's face is covered by the morning paper. You offer another apology as you take your seat, but are greeted by silence. 'He must be really mad...', you think to yourself as you stare at your plate. After a few uncomfortable minutes, Henry lets out a hard sigh and sets the paper down. You blink back surprise at the look of irritation on his face, his mouth set in a thin line. “Your Mom was clear about the rules before she left.” The hard edge in his voice causes you to drop your eyes to the table. - “No video games today, maybe not tomorrow either.” You look up, wanting to protest, but his glare instantly makes you reconsider. You don’t want to get into more trouble. “Go take your bike out or something.” He says, curtly, before vanishing behind the paper once again. The air outside is humid but pleasant, not at the stages of unbearable summer heat. You ride aimlessly around your neighborhood, your face still slightly flushed with the annoyance and embarrassment at being scolded. Maybe the stress from work, and being in charge on his own, was getting to him. Your thoughts bounce between Henry and the box, with its weird contents, currently sitting under your bed. – You’re struck by a memory of a horror movie you’d watched at your friend Aimee’s house; there was a big stone carved with symbols that was being used to imprison a demon. While the symbols in the movie and the ones carved into those candles might not be an exact match, you think they’re similar. Looking up you see the outline of the local Catholic church, and it suddenly dawns on you why the melody seems so familiar. It reminds you of the singing you could sometimes hear coming from inside on Sundays. Humming the notes to yourself gives you a strange sense of comfort as you continue peddling. – The street lights flicking on makes you realize how late it's gotten and you head back home. As you open the front door, you hear a loud banging coming from the direction of the kitchen. Peeking your head in, you see Henry slam the oven door shut before glancing in your direction. “Dinner should be ready soon, go get washed up.” He says before turning his back towards you again. A tight knot forms in your throat as you hurry to the bathroom, the continued sound of banging making you flinch. You’d never known Henry to slam things, at least not on purpose. Between this assault on the kitchen appliances and your bedroom door last night, you wonder if this is the new normal. – After washing up, you silently go about setting the table, hoping to win yourself some brownie points for doing so without being asked. If Henry notices, he doesn’t say anything. Halfway through dinner Henry's attention starts to drift, his eyes regularly flicking to the wall clock. "Since I cooked, you get to clean. I’m going to hit the hay.", he says as he starts to clear the table, his dinner mostly untouched. Laying on top of the covers you watch the clock and wait. – As the time ticks over from 11:59pm to 12:00am, the sound of Henry's bedroom door opening drifts down the hall. You move towards your own door, holding your breath and listening closely for the sound of his shuffling feet. At first you're greeted by silence before hearing a faint rummaging sound from the back of the house followed by quickly moving footsteps in the hall. More rummaging. You quietly breathe out and slip into the hallway. [[2-END-C]] [[2-END-S]] [[3-END-C-RC-SM-CD]] [[3-END-S-RC-SM-CD]] [[3-END-C-RC-SM-WB]] [[3-END-S-RC-SM-WB]] [[4-END-RC-SM-WB-CD]]

''NIGHT 2 - CAUGHT - RC/SS'' You're already apologizing as Henry's glare lands on you, heat rushing to your cheeks as he points in the direction of your bedroom. "Bed. Now." He says through gritted teeth, jabbing a finger in the direction of your bedroom. As you walk towards your room, you hear him take two quick breaths in through his nose. You can feel your heart hammering, acutely aware of the smell wafting from inside your sleeve where the half burnt bundle of herbs is pressed tightly against your skin. His eyes follow you as you climb back into your bed, starting for a few seconds too long before shutting the door hard enough to make you jump. – You hold your breath and wait for the sound of his bedroom door closing before pulling the string wrapped bundle from your sleeve. Under the lingering burnt smell you pick up the same earthy, almost skunky, musk that had been coming from under your door. There’s something oddly familiar and comforting about the scent though you can’t put your finger on why. You grab the shoe box from under your bed and toss the herbs inside, next to the black candles. You give your shirt a quick sniff before pulling it off and grabbing another from off the floor, just in case. You burrow deep into your covers and silently hope that Henry isn’t still upset with you tomorrow. The smell of the incense drifts up to you from under your bed as you finally fall asleep. – Three sharp bangs on your bedroom door the following morning jerk you awake. Already sitting down at the table, Henry's face is covered by the morning paper. You offer another apology as you take your seat, but are greeted by silence. 'He must be really mad...', you think to yourself as you stare at your plate. After a few uncomfortable minutes, Henry lets out a hard sigh and sets the paper down. You blink back surprise at the look of irritation on his face, his mouth set in a thin line. “Your Mom was clear about the rules before she left.” The hard edge in his voice causes you to drop your eyes to the table. - “No video games today, maybe not tomorrow either.” You look up, wanting to protest, but his glare instantly makes you reconsider. You don’t want to get into more trouble. “Go take your bike out or something.” He says, curtly, before vanishing behind the paper once again. The air outside is humid but pleasant, not at the stages of unbearable summer heat. You ride aimlessly around your neighborhood, your face still slightly flushed with the annoyance and embarrassment at being scolded. Maybe the stress from work, and being in charge on his own, was getting to him. Your thoughts bounce between Henry and the box, with its weird contents, currently sitting under your bed. – You’re struck by a memory of an old horror movie you’d watched at your friend Aimee’s house; there was a big stone carved with symbols that was being used to imprison a demon. While the symbols in the movie and the ones carved into those candles might not be an exact match, you think they’re similar. Continuing to pedal down the road, you take a deep breath, trying to see if there’s anything lingering on the afternoon air that’s similar to the dried herbs from the night before. You debate if the smell reminded you of Mom’s perfumes or lotions, but dismiss the thought almost immediately. She tended to lean towards anything vanilla scented, nothing like the warm woody smell that had leaked under your bedroom door. – The street lights flicking on makes you realize how late it's gotten and you head back home. As you open the front door, you hear a loud banging coming from the direction of the kitchen. Peeking your head in, you see Henry slam the oven door shut before glancing in your direction. “Dinner should be ready soon, go get washed up.” He says before turning his back towards you again. A tight knot forms in your throat as you hurry to the bathroom, the continued sound of banging making you flinch. You’d never known Henry to slam things, at least not on purpose. Between this assault on the kitchen appliances and your bedroom door last night, you wonder if this is the new normal. – After washing up, you silently go about setting the table, hoping to win yourself some brownie points for doing so without being asked. If Henry notices, he doesn’t say anything. Halfway through dinner Henry's attention starts to drift, his eyes regularly flicking to the wall clock. "Since I cooked, you get to clean. I’m going to hit the hay.", he says as he starts to clear the table, his dinner mostly untouched. Laying on top of the covers you watch the clock and wait. – As the time ticks over from 11:59pm to 12:00am, the sound of Henry's bedroom door opening drifts down the hall. You move towards your own door, holding your breath and listening closely for the sound of his shuffling feet. At first you're greeted by silence before hearing a faint rummaging sound from the back of the house followed by quickly moving footsteps in the hall. More rummaging. You quietly breathe out and slip into the hallway. [[2-END-C]] [[2-END-S]] [[3-END-C-RC-SS-CD]] [[3-END-S-RC-SS-CD]] [[3-END-C-RC-SS-WB]] [[3-END-S-RC-SS-WB]] [[4-END-RC-SS-WB-CD]]

''NIGHT 2 - CAUGHT - SB'' You're already apologizing as Henry's gaze lands on you, heat rushing to your cheeks as he points in the direction of your bedroom. "Get to your room, it’s way past your bedtime." He watches you closely as you climb back into your bed, starting for a few seconds too long before shutting the door firmly behind him. You can feel your heart hammering, embarrassed at having been caught. As your heart rate slows, you burrow deeper into your covers and hope that Henry won’t still be upset with you in the morning. – The series of sharp knocks on your door the following more sends a stab of guilt through you. 'He must still be mad...', you think to yourself as you climb out of bed. Already sitting down at the table, Henry's face is covered by the morning paper. You offer another apology as you take your seat, shifting uncomfortably at the silence that follows. Henry eventually lets out a sigh and sets the paper down. You blink back surprise at how exhausted he looks and the dark circles forming under his eyes. “You know the rules, your Mom was pretty clear before she left.” There’s an edge to his voice that causes you to swallow involuntarily. Henry’s voice softens slightly. – "I’ll let it go this time. But, since you've clearly got energy to burn, take your bike out today. No cure for insomnia like some fresh air", he says before returning to the paper, signalling the end of the conversation. The air outside is humid but pleasant, not at the stages of unbearable summer heat. You ride aimlessly around your neighborhood letting your thoughts wander to your Grandmother again. You’re struck by a memory of an old fables and fairytales she would read to you when you were little. You hadn’t thought about that book in years, but the soft draw string bag sitting under your bed has coaxed it to the front of your mind. You try to recall if there was any mention of black salt, but all that immediately comes to mind is the constant warning to never step inside a mushroom ring - unless you wanted to be whisked off by the fairies. – The street lights flicking on makes you realize how late it's gotten and you head back home. You hear clattering sounds coming from the kitchen and peek your head in to see Henry cooking dinner. He glances your direction and gives you a tired smile. “Set the table, will ya?”, he asks before turning back to the stove. Grabbing plates and forks, you can’t shake the feeling that the bags under Henry’s eyes have gotten darker since this morning. – Between bites of food, you make several attempts to strike up a conversation with Henry but your questions are mostly met with noncommittal noises. Eventually his attention starts to drift, his eyes regularly flicking to the wall clock. "It’s getting late, let’s get the dishes done. I’m going to call it an early night" Henry finally says and starts to clear the table, his dinner mostly untouched. Laying on top of the covers you watch the clock and wait. – As the time ticks over from 11:59pm to 12:00am, the sound of Henry's bedroom door opening drifts down the hall. You move towards your own door, holding your breath and listening closely for the sound of his shuffling feet. At first you're greeted by silence before hearing a faint rummaging sound from the back of the house followed by quickly moving footsteps in the hall. More rummaging. You quietly breathe out and slip into the hallway. [[1-END-C]] [[1-END-S]] [[2-END-C-SB-CD]] [[2-END-S-SB-CD]] [[2-END-C-SB-WB]] [[2-END-S-SB-WB]] [[3-END-SB-WB-CD]]

''NIGHT 2 - CAUGHT - SB/SM'' You’re already apologizing as Henry’s glare lands on you, hoping it’s enough to cover the sound of you stuffing the old sheet music into your pants pocket. "Bed. Now." He says through gritted teeth, jabbing a finger in the direction of your bedroom. His eyes follow you as you climb back into your bed, starting for a few seconds too long before shutting the door hard enough to make you jump. You take several deep breaths to calm your racing heart before carefully pulling the old sheet music from your pocket. – Now wrinkled, the notes are harder to make out, but you remember the basics of how to read music. It doesn't take long for you to realize this is the same song you heard Henry humming from his office. You grab the shoe box from under your bed and place the folded sheet music inside, next to the draw string bag. Burrowing under your covers, with the melody looping in your head, you silently hope that Henry won’t still be upset with you in the morning. – Three sharp bangs on your bedroom door the following morning jerk you awake. Already sitting down at the table, Henry's face is covered by the morning paper. You offer another apology as you take your seat, but are greeted by silence. 'He must be really mad...', you think to yourself as you stare at your plate. After a few uncomfortable minutes, Henry lets out a hard sigh and sets the paper down. You blink back surprise at the look of irritation on his face, his mouth set in a thin line. “Your Mom was clear about the rules before she left.” The hard edge in his voice causes you to drop your eyes to the table. - “No video games today, maybe not tomorrow either.” You look up, wanting to protest, but his glare instantly makes you reconsider. You don’t want to get into more trouble. “Go take your bike out or something.” He says, curtly, before vanishing behind the paper once again. The air outside is humid but pleasant, not at the stages of unbearable summer heat. You ride aimlessly around your neighborhood, your face still slightly flushed with the annoyance and embarrassment at being scolded. Maybe the stress from work, and being in charge on his own, was getting to him. Your thoughts bounce between Henry and the box, with its weird contents, currently sitting under your bed. – Your mind wanders to your Grandmother, again, and you recall a memory of an old fables and fairytales she would read to you when you were little. You hadn’t thought about that book in years, but the soft draw string bag sitting under your bed has coaxed it to the front of your mind. You try to recall if there was any mention of black salt, but all that immediately comes to mind is the constant warning to never step inside a mushroom ring - unless you wanted to be whisked off by the fairies Looking up you see the outline of the local Catholic church, and it suddenly dawns on you why the melody seems so familiar. It reminds you of the singing you could sometimes hear coming from inside on Sundays. Humming the notes to yourself gives you a strange sense of comfort as you continue peddling. – The street lights flicking on makes you realize how late it's gotten and you head back home. As you open the front door, you hear a loud banging coming from the direction of the kitchen. Peeking your head in, you see Henry slam the oven door shut before glancing in your direction. “Dinner should be ready soon, go get washed up.” He says before turning his back towards you again. A tight knot forms in your throat as you hurry to the bathroom, the continued sound of banging making you flinch. You’d never known Henry to slam things, at least not on purpose. Between this assault on the kitchen appliances and your bedroom door last night, you wonder if this is the new normal. – After washing up, you silently go about setting the table, hoping to win yourself some brownie points for doing so without being asked. If Henry notices, he doesn’t say anything. Halfway through dinner Henry's attention starts to drift, his eyes regularly flicking to the wall clock. "Since I cooked, you get to clean. I’m going to hit the hay.", he says as he starts to clear the table, his dinner mostly untouched. Laying on top of the covers you watch the clock and wait. – As the time ticks over from 11:59pm to 12:00am, the sound of Henry's bedroom door opening drifts down the hall. You move towards your own door, holding your breath and listening closely for the sound of his shuffling feet. At first you're greeted by silence before hearing a faint rummaging sound from the back of the house followed by quickly moving footsteps in the hall. More rummaging. You quietly breathe out and slip into the hallway. [[2-END-C]] [[2-END-S]] [[3-END-C-SB-SM-CD]] [[3-END-S-SB-SM-CD]] [[3-END-C-SB-SM-WB]] [[3-END-S-SB-SM-WB]] [[4-END-SB-SM-WB-CD]]

''NIGHT 2 - SURVIVED - SB/SS'' You're already apologizing as Henry's glare lands on you, heat rushing to your cheeks as he points in the direction of your bedroom. "Bed. Now." He says through gritted teeth, jabbing a finger in the direction of your bedroom. As you walk towards your room, you hear him take two quick breaths in through his nose. You can feel your heart hammering, acutely aware of the smell wafting from inside your sleeve where the half burnt bundle of herbs is pressed tightly against your skin. His eyes follow you as you climb back into your bed, starting for a few seconds too long before shutting the door hard enough to make you jump. – You hold your breath and wait for the sound of his bedroom door closing before pulling the string wrapped bundle from your sleeve. Under the lingering burnt smell you pick up the same earthy, almost skunky, musk that had been coming from under your door. There’s something oddly familiar and comforting about the scent though you can’t put your finger on why. You grab the shoe box from under your bed and toss the herbs inside, next to the drawstring bag. You give your shirt a quick sniff before pulling it off and grabbing another from off the floor, just in case. You burrow deep into your covers and silently hope that Henry isn’t still upset with you tomorrow. The smell of the incense drifts up to you from under your bed as you finally fall asleep. – Three sharp bangs on your bedroom door the following morning jerk you awake. Already sitting down at the table, Henry's face is covered by the morning paper. You offer another apology as you take your seat, but are greeted by silence. 'He must be really mad...', you think to yourself as you stare at your plate. After a few uncomfortable minutes, Henry lets out a hard sigh and sets the paper down. You blink back surprise at the look of irritation on his face, his mouth set in a thin line. “Your Mom was clear about the rules before she left.” The hard edge in his voice causes you to drop your eyes to the table. - “No video games today, maybe not tomorrow either.” You look up, wanting to protest, but his glare instantly makes you reconsider. You don’t want to get into more trouble. “Go take your bike out or something.” He says, curtly, before vanishing behind the paper once again. The air outside is humid but pleasant, not at the stages of unbearable summer heat. You ride aimlessly around your neighborhood, your face still slightly flushed with the annoyance and embarrassment at being scolded. Maybe the stress from work, and being in charge on his own, was getting to him. Your thoughts bounce between Henry and the box, with its weird contents, currently sitting under your bed. – Your mind wanders to your Grandmother, again, and you recall a memory of an old fables and fairytales she would read to you when you were little. You hadn’t thought about that book in years, but the soft draw string bag sitting under your bed has coaxed it to the front of your mind. You try to recall if there was any mention of black salt, but all that immediately comes to mind is the constant warning to never step inside a mushroom ring - unless you wanted to be whisked off by the fairies Continuing to pedal down the road, you take a deep breath, trying to see if there’s anything lingering on the afternoon air that’s similar to the dried herbs from the night before. You debate if the smell reminded you of Mom’s perfumes or lotions, but dismiss the thought almost immediately. She tended to lean towards anything vanilla scented, nothing like the warm woody smell that had leaked under your bedroom door. – The street lights flicking on makes you realize how late it's gotten and you head back home. As you open the front door, you hear a loud banging coming from the direction of the kitchen. Peeking your head in, you see Henry slam the oven door shut before glancing in your direction. “Dinner should be ready soon, go get washed up.” He says before turning his back towards you again. A tight knot forms in your throat as you hurry to the bathroom, the continued sound of banging making you flinch. You’d never known Henry to slam things, at least not on purpose. Between this assault on the kitchen appliances and your bedroom door last night, you wonder if this is the new normal. – After washing up, you silently go about setting the table, hoping to win yourself some brownie points for doing so without being asked. If Henry notices, he doesn’t say anything. Halfway through dinner Henry's attention starts to drift, his eyes regularly flicking to the wall clock. "Since I cooked, you get to clean. I’m going to hit the hay.", he says as he starts to clear the table, his dinner mostly untouched. Laying on top of the covers you watch the clock and wait. – As the time ticks over from 11:59pm to 12:00am, the sound of Henry's bedroom door opening drifts down the hall. You move towards your own door, holding your breath and listening closely for the sound of his shuffling feet. At first you're greeted by silence before hearing a faint rummaging sound from the back of the house followed by quickly moving footsteps in the hall. More rummaging. You quietly breathe out and slip into the hallway. [[2-END-C]] [[2-END-S]] [[3-END-C-SB-SS-CD]] [[3-END-S-SB-SS-CD]] [[3-END-C-SB-SS-WB]] [[3-END-S-SB-SS-WB]] [[4-END-SB-SS-WB-CD]]

''NIGHT 2 - CAUGHT - SM'' You’re already apologizing as Henry’s gaze lands on you, hoping it’s enough to cover the sound of you stuffing the old sheet music into your pants pocket. Heat rushes to your cheeks as he points in the direction of your bedroom. "Get to your room, it’s way past your bedtime." He watches you closely as you climb back into your bed, starting for a few seconds too long before shutting the door firmly behind him. You take several deep breaths to calm your racing heart as you carefully pull the old sheet music from your pocket. – Now wrinkled, the notes are harder to make out, but you remember the basics of how to read music. It doesn't take long for you to realize this is the same song you heard Henry humming from his office. Glancing around your bedroom, you grab a shoe box from the floor and place the folded sheet music inside before shoving it under your bed. You climb into bed and burrow beneath your covers, silently hoping that Henry won’t still be upset with you in the morning. The melody plays on a loop in your head as you drift off to sleep. – The series of sharp knocks on your door the following more sends a stab of guilt through you. 'He must still be mad...', you think to yourself as you climb out of bed. Already sitting down at the table, Henry's face is covered by the morning paper. You offer another apology as you take your seat, shifting uncomfortably at the silence that follows. Henry eventually lets out a sigh and sets the paper down. You blink back surprise at how exhausted he looks and the dark circles forming under his eyes. “You know the rules, your Mom was pretty clear before she left.” There’s an edge to his voice that causes you to swallow involuntarily. Henry’s voice softens slightly. – "I’ll let it go this time. But, since you've clearly got energy to burn, take your bike out today. No cure for insomnia like some fresh air", he says before returning to the paper, signalling the end of the conversation. The air outside is humid but pleasant, not at the stages of unbearable summer heat. You ride aimlessly around your neighborhood, the music from the night before still playing in your mind. Looking up you see the outline of the local Catholic church, and it suddenly dawns on you why the melody seems so familiar. It reminds you of the singing you could sometimes hear coming from inside on Sundays. – The street lights flicking on makes you realize how late it's gotten and you head back home. You hear clattering sounds coming from the kitchen and peek your head in to see Henry cooking dinner. He glances your direction and gives you a tired smile. “Set the table, will ya?”, he asks before turning back to the stove. Grabbing plates and forks, you can’t shake the feeling that the bags under Henry’s eyes have gotten darker since this morning. – Between bites of food, you make several attempts to strike up a conversation with Henry but your questions are mostly met with noncommittal noises. Eventually his attention starts to drift, his eyes regularly flicking to the wall clock. "It’s getting late, let’s get the dishes done. I’m going to call it an early night" Henry finally says and starts to clear the table, his dinner mostly untouched. Laying on top of the covers you watch the clock and wait. – As the time ticks over from 11:59pm to 12:00am, the sound of Henry's bedroom door opening drifts down the hall. You move towards your own door, holding your breath and listening closely for the sound of his shuffling feet. At first you're greeted by silence before hearing a faint rummaging sound from the back of the house followed by quickly moving footsteps in the hall. More rummaging. You quietly breathe out and slip into the hallway. [[1-END-C]] [[1-END-S]] [[2-END-C-SM-CD]] [[2-END-S-SM-CD]] [[2-END-C-SM-WB]] [[2-END-S-SM-WB]] [[3-END-SM-WB-CD]]

''NIGHT 2 - CAUGHT - SS'' You're already apologizing as Henry's gaze lands on you, heat rushing to your cheeks as he points in the direction of your bedroom. "Get to your room, it’s way past your bedtime." As you walk towards your room, you hear him take two quick breaths in through his nose. You can feel your heart hammering, acutely aware of the smell wafting from inside your sleeve where the half burnt bundle of herbs is pressed tightly against your skin. He watches you closely as you climb back into your bed, starting for a few seconds too long before firmly shutting the door. – You hold your breath and wait for the sound of his bedroom door closing before pulling the string wrapped bundle from your sleeve. Under the lingering burnt smell you pick up the same earthy, almost skunky, musk that had been coming from under your door. There’s something oddly familiar and comforting about the scent though you can’t put your finger on why. You glance around your room before quietly grabbing a shoe box from your closet and tossing the herbs inside. You give your shirt a quick sniff before pulling it off and grabbing another from off the floor, just in case. You burrow deep into your covers and silently hope that Henry isn’t still upset with you tomorrow. The smell of the incense drifts up to you from under your bed as you finally fall asleep. – The series of sharp knocks on your door the following more sends a stab of guilt through you. 'He must still be mad...', you think to yourself as you climb out of bed. Already sitting down at the table, Henry's face is covered by the morning paper. You offer another apology as you take your seat, shifting uncomfortably at the silence that follows. Henry eventually lets out a sigh and sets the paper down. You blink back surprise at how exhausted he looks and the dark circles forming under his eyes. “You know the rules, your Mom was pretty clear before she left.” There’s an edge to his voice that causes you to swallow involuntarily. Henry’s voice softens slightly.. – "I’ll let it go this time. But, since you've clearly got energy to burn, take your bike out today. No cure for insomnia like some fresh air", he says before returning to the paper, signalling the end of the conversation. The air outside is humid but pleasant, not at the stages of unbearable summer heat. You ride aimlessly around your neighborhood letting your thoughts wander to the half burnt bundle of dried herbs under your bed. At first you consider if the smell reminded you of one of Mom’s perfumes or lotions, but dismiss the notion almost immediately. She tended to lean towards anything vanilla scented, nothing like the warm woody smell that had clung to your shirt from the night before. – The street lights flicking on makes you realize how late it's gotten and you head back home. You hear clattering sounds coming from the kitchen and peek your head in to see Henry cooking dinner. He glances your direction and gives you a tired smile. “Set the table, will ya?”, he asks before turning back to the stove. Grabbing plates and forks, you can’t shake the feeling that the bags under Henry’s eyes have gotten darker since this morning. – Between bites of food, you make several attempts to strike up a conversation with Henry but your questions are mostly met with noncommittal noises. Eventually his attention starts to drift, his eyes regularly flicking to the wall clock. "It’s getting late, let’s get the dishes done. I’m going to call it an early night" Henry finally says and starts to clear the table, his dinner mostly untouched. Laying on top of the covers you watch the clock and wait. – As the time ticks over from 11:59pm to 12:00am, the sound of Henry's bedroom door opening drifts down the hall. You move towards your own door, holding your breath and listening closely for the sound of his shuffling feet. At first you're greeted by silence before hearing a faint rummaging sound from the back of the house followed by quickly moving footsteps in the hall. More rummaging. You quietly breathe out and slip into the hallway. [[1-END-C]] [[1-END-S]] [[2-END-C-SS-CD]] [[2-END-S-SS-CD]] [[2-END-C-SS-WB]] [[2-END-S-SS-WB]] [[3-END-SS-WB-CD]]

''NIGHT 2 - RC/SM/SS'' Heading back to your bedroom you pull the shoe box from its hiding place, hearing a soft clacking sound of the candles rolling into each other. Pulling the folded paper from your pocket, you bring it close to your face for a better look at the music notes scrawled across the page. Reading music might not be your strong suite, but you silently try to play the tune in your head. It doesn’t take long to realize this is the same song you heard Henry humming from his office. You see the words “Sub Tuum Praesidium” written in ornate calligraphy at the top of the page. – You fold up the paper and place it inside the box before turning your attention to the sting tied bundle of dry herbs. Under the lingering burnt smell you pick up the same earthy, almost skunky, musk that had been coming from under your door. There’s something oddly familiar and comforting about the scent though you can’t put your finger on why. You drop the bundle into the box and shove it back under your bed. With the strange melody playing on a loop in your head and the faint smell of the smudge stick drifting up from its hiding place, you have a hard time falling asleep. Eventually, your eyes close… – BANG! A fist slamming into your bedroom door yanks you into consciousness, almost causing you to fall out of bed. As your brain slowly catches up to your body being rudely awakened, you’re aware of a vague burning smell. You stumble into the hallway, the smell gets stronger and a string of curses emanate from the kitchen. Looking in you see a thin string of smoke coming off a frying pan. A still swearing Henry grabs the pan and dumps it into the sink. You stand frozen in the doorway until Henry turns and his blood shot eyes land on you. – He takes a step towards you, moving so suddenly that you flinch away. A short, harsh laugh escapes him and your face flushes hot from surprise. “Looks like there’s no breakfast, unless you decide you want to get off your lazy ass and make it yourself for once”, he spits the words at you. The heat in your face intensifies as you stare at him. His face is twisted in a smile that you’ve never seen before, something between a sneer and disgust. “Figure it out. I’m working again today, so either make yourself scarce or be quiet as the dead. Got me?” It feels like the wind has been knocked out of you, making it impossible for you to answer. – His eyes narrow and he takes another step towards you. You begin nodding frantically and move away from him as he walks past you into the hallway. The rattling crash of the office door banging shut makes you flinch again. With your ears ringing from the silence that settles into the house, you begin moving on auto-pilot. Taking extra pains to be silent, you rush to the side yard and grab your bike, throwing yourself onto the pedals to get as much distance between you and the house (and Henry), as possible. – Halfway down the street you feel hot tears running down your face, the shock of the morning finally breaking through the panic. You make it to a nearby park, nearly falling off your bike as you dismount and collapse on a bench to finish crying. You feel better after a few minutes. – You rack your brain, Henry wasn’t just acting ‘strange’ he was acting like a completely different person. You’d seen him upset before, of course you had, but nothing on this scale. Maybe he was drinking? But that seemed insane, your Mom only kept a couple of beers in the fridge and Henry complained alcohol gave him a headache. Drugs? That thought immediately makes you laugh, surprising yourself but helping to soothe your rattled nerves. Henry was a regular D.A.R.E volunteer, there was no way. Your thoughts continue to chase themselves in circles until you realize how late it’s gotten. With a pit in your stomach, you climb back onto your bike and head towards home. – You quietly open the front door and listen before cautiously walking into the silent house. Creeping into the hallway you glance at Henry’s office door and feel a mild sense of relief when you see it still closed. Your stomach rumbles, a reminder that you haven’t eaten today, so you search the fridge to find some left over pizza. Deciding not to risk another run in with Henry for today, you retreat to your room with the cold pizza. – Sitting on the floor, you pull the box out from under your bed and study the items inside. As you open the lid, the smokey smell of the herb bundle hits you, and you realize why it’s so familiar. At the start of the year, whenever your friend Aimee would open her backpack this same smell would drift from it. You’d asked her about it once, and she’d said her Mom always insisted on “smudging” the house after the holidays. “She says it cleans out any bad energy, or something like that.”, she’d explained while rolling her eyes. – Picking up the candles, and with Aimee still at the forefront of your mind, you stare at the angular symbols etched into their sides. You remember a horror movie Aimee had shown you recently; there was a big stone carved with symbols, just like these, that was being used to keep a demon imprisoned. Unfortunately, you’d fallen asleep somewhere in the middle of the movie. Trying to recall the movie's title, you absently start humming the melody that had been stuck in your head since last night. – Unable to remember what the movie was called, you shift your attention to the folded sheet music. Looking at the sweeping letters at the top of the page, Sub Tuum Praesidium, you feel a flicker of recognition. There’s an old Catholic church that you sometimes pass while riding your bike. On hotter days, the doors are propped open and you could hear choir practice on Wednesday. You aren’t sure if they’ve ever sung this song specifically, but there is absolutely a similarity. – Hearing Henry exit his office and slam the door to the bedroom, you drop the paper into the box with a start and quickly push it back under your bed. You switch off your bedroom lights and lay on top of your bed, staring at the glowing numbers on your desk clock. – As the time ticks over from 11:59pm to 12:00am, the sound of Henry's bedroom door opening drifts down the hall. You move towards your own door, holding your breath and listening closely for the sound of his shuffling feet. At first you're greeted by silence before hearing a faint rummaging sound from the back of the house followed by quickly moving footsteps in the hall. More rummaging. – With your hand on the doorknob, you pause, hearing the blood pulsing in your ears. What if he catches you out of bed? Given the way he was acting this morning, you shudder at the thought. Taking a deep breath, you realize you’ve already made up your mind. Something was going on, and you needed to get to the bottom of it. You quietly breathe out and slip into the hallway. [[3-END-C]] [[3-END-S]] [[4-END-C-RC-SM-SS-CD]] [[4-END-S-RC-SM-SS-CD]] [[4-END-C-RC-SM-SS-WB]] [[4-END-S-RC-SM-SS-WB]] [[5-END-RC-SM-SS-WB-CD]]

''NIGHT 2 - SURVIVED - 0'' Leaning against your bedroom door, you’re starting to wonder if maybe Mom is right about you having an overactive imagination. Henry's behavior has been weird, sure, but you haven't seen anything truly out of the ordinary. Maybe it's just insomnia? Still though, something nibbles at the back of your mind. That same low hum of unease that you've been unable to shake since entering the house on Friday. You lay down in bed, still arguing with yourself until you drift into sleep. – You open your eyes to the sun peeking into your room, vaguely aware of the ‘tap tap tap’ on your bedroom door that initially pulled you awake. As you settle in front of your breakfast, the internal argument from the night before starts up again. 'You really are blowing things out of proportion', you think to yourself. 'Sure, Henry has been acting kind of weird, but adults just act weird sometimes'. When he sits down at the table, paper in hand, you notice that dark circles have started to form under his eyes. You feel a small pang of worry and wonder if this bout of insomnia has been going on longer than just the past few nights. – Henry catches you staring and gives you a lopsided grin. "If you take a picture, it'll last longer" he teases before shutting the paper. "Something on your mind?" You shrug and turn back to your plate. "You've been spending quite a bit of time in front of the TV - I think you should get outside today. Maybe take your bike out for a spin?" While it comes across as a question, you get the sense it's not really up for discussion. "Trying to get rid of me?" you ask, half jokingly. A strange look flashes across Henry's face that he tries to hide with a forced smile. – "Never, but your Mom'll have my head if she finds out I let you rot your brain all weekend. Get some fresh air, it'll do you some good", he says and the forceful smile melting into its usual goofy grin. The air outside is humid but pleasant, not at the stages of unbearable summer heat. You ride aimlessly around your neighborhood letting your thoughts wander. Henry was absolutely acting strange, even by your standards, but without something more concrete to go on all you were left with were questions. You could just ask him point blank what was going on, but what would that accomplish? He probably wouldn't tell you anyway. Wouldn't want you to worry. – The street lights flicking on makes you realize how late it's gotten and you head back home. You hear clattering sounds coming from the kitchen and peek your head in to see Henry cooking dinner. "Hey Bud, how was the bike ride?" You start setting the table, smiling to yourself. The normalcy of the scene, Henry banging away in the kitchen, wearing Mom’s flowery apron, eases the tension you've been feeling for the past two days. – The feeling doesn't last long. While dinner starts off pleasantly enough. Henry asks you about your new game and seems to genuinely be involved in the conversation, but eventually his attention begins to drift and his eyes regularly flick to the wall clock. "Alright, let's get the dishes knocked out and hit the hay. I think we both could use a good night of sleep.", Henry says as he starts to clear the table, his dinner mostly untouched. Laying on top of the covers you watch the clock and wait. – As the time ticks over from 11:59pm to 12:00am, the sound of Henry's bedroom door opening drifts down the hall. You move towards your own door, holding your breath and listening closely for the sound of his shuffling feet. At first you're greeted by silence before hearing a faint rummaging sound from the back of the house followed by quickly moving footsteps in the hall. More rummaging. You quietly breathe out and slip into the hallway. [[0-END-C]] [[0-END-S]] [[1-END-C-CD]] [[1-END-S-CD]] [[1-END-C-WB]] [[1-END-S-WB]] [[2-END-CD-WB]]

''NIGHT 2 - SURVIVED - RC'' Quietly closing your bedroom door and climbing into bed, you wonder if maybe your Mom is right about you having an overactive imagination. Henry's behavior has been weird, sure, but maybe it really was just insomnia or something at work stressing him out? But your fingers tingle slightly with the memory of the symbols etched into the candles sitting under your bed. How could work stress or insomnia explain that away? You lay down in bed, still arguing with yourself until you drift into sleep. – The series of sharp knocks on your door the following morning come far earlier than you’d like. Pulling yourself out of bed, you’re beginning to feel the toll of running on only a few hours of sleep. As you settle in front of your breakfast, the internal argument from the night before starts up again. 'You really are blowing things out of proportion', you think to yourself. 'Maybe the candles aren’t even Henry’s, maybe it’s some new hobby that Mom picked up’. When Henry sits down next to you and picks up the morning paper, you notice the dark circles under his eyes have gotten deeper. You feel a pang of worry and wonder if Henry's bout of ‘insomnia’ has been going on longer than just the past few nights. – He catches you staring and blinks. “What? Something on my face?” He rubs a hand along his cheek, the scratching sound that follows making it clear he hasn’t shaved for a few days. You shake your head and shrug. “Has Mom mentioned starting some new art project? Candle making or something like that?” You ask, trying to keep your voice nonchalant. He stares at you for a moment, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Nope. Why?” There’s an edge to his voice and you quickly drop your eyes to your plate with another shrug. The silence stretches for a few seconds too long before he turns back to the paper. – "You've been spending quite a bit of time in front of the TV - I think you should get some time outside today. Go for a bike ride." He says after a few minutes, a statement rather than a request. "Trying to get rid of me?" You ask, only half joking. He nods absently, and you aren’t sure if he’s agreeing with you or just didn’t hear your question. "Your Mom'll have my head if she finds out I let you rot your brain all weekend. Get some fresh air, it'll do you some good". – The air outside is humid but pleasant, not at the stages of unbearable summer heat. You ride aimlessly around your neighborhood letting your thoughts wander to the candles stashed beneath your bed. You’re struck by a memory of an old horror movie you’d watched at your friend Aimee’s house; there was a big stone carved with symbols that was being used to imprison a demon. While the symbols in the movie and the ones carved into those candles might not be an exact match, you think they’re similar. – The street lights flicking on makes you realize how late it's gotten and you head back home. You hear clattering sounds coming from the kitchen and peek your head in to see Henry cooking dinner. He glances your direction and gives you a tired smile. “Set the table, will ya?”, he asks before turning back to the stove. Grabbing plates and forks, you can’t shake the feeling that the bags under Henry’s eyes have gotten darker since this morning. – Between bites of food, you make several attempts to strike up a conversation with Henry but your questions are mostly met with noncommittal noises. Eventually his attention starts to drift, his eyes regularly flicking to the wall clock. "It’s getting late, let’s get the dishes done. I’m going to call it an early night" Henry finally says and starts to clear the table, his dinner mostly untouched. Laying on top of the covers you watch the clock and wait. – As the time ticks over from 11:59pm to 12:00am, the sound of Henry's bedroom door opening drifts down the hall. You move towards your own door, holding your breath and listening closely for the sound of his shuffling feet. At first you're greeted by silence before hearing a faint rummaging sound from the back of the house followed by quickly moving footsteps in the hall. More rummaging. You quietly breathe out and slip into the hallway. [[1-END-C]] [[1-END-S]] [[2-END-C-RC-CD]] [[2-END-S-RC-CD]] [[2-END-C-RC-WB]] [[2-END-S-RC-WB]] [[3-END-RC-WB-CD]]

''NIGHT 2 - SURVIVED - RC/SM'' Quietly shutting the door to your bedroom you grab the shoe box from under your bed, hearing the soft clatter of the candles knocking into each other. Pulling the folded paper from your pocket, you bring it close to your face for a better look at the music notes scrawled across the page. Reading music might not be your strong suite, but you silently try to play the tune in your head. It doesn’t take long to realize this is the same son you heard Henry humming from his office. You see the words “Sub Tuum Praesidium” written in ornate calligraphy at the top of the page. – You fold the paper and tuck it into the box. You study the candles again, unable to ignore the feeling that you’ve seen them somewhere before. Sitting on your bed in the dark, you suddenly remember a horror movie you’d see recently with your friend Aimee. There was a big stone carved with symbols that was being used to imprison a demon. Moving the stone ends up breaking the seal, but you’d passed out before the movie ended. You slide the box back under your bed before burrowing beneath the covers, the melody playing on a loop in your head as you finally fall asleep. – You open your eyes to the sun peeking into your room, vaguely aware of the sharp bang on your bedroom door that initially pulled you awake. As you settle in front of your breakfast, you absently start humming the music from the night before. You feel heat on the side of your face and look over to see Henry staring at you, with dark rimmed unblinking eyes. "Where did you hear that song?" Henry asks, an edge to his voice that surprises you. While trying to think of a convincing lie, your mouth answers before your brain has time to give any input. "Not sure, I woke up with it stuck in my head". You can feel your heart pounding as you hold Henry's stare. You watch his face, seeing the internal debate of if he believes you or not. After a moment, he finally nods and reaches for the morning paper. – "You've been spending a lot of time in front of the TV - you should get outside today. Go ride your bike or something.” A command rather than a question. "Trying to get rid of me?" you ask, half jokingly. A look of annoyance flashes across his face, but he doesn’t respond. The air outside is humid but pleasant, not at the stages of unbearable summer heat. You ride aimlessly around your neighborhood, letting your thoughts wander to the box, and its weird contents, currently sitting under your bed. – Thinking about the symbols carved into the candle, you shudder. Why do those hard angled lines give you the willies? The horror movie you and Aimee hadn’t watched hadn’t been that scary, you’d fallen asleep half way through after all. Glancing at fluttering paper stapled to a telephone pole, you pull your bike to a stop. On top of several weathered papers, missing pets and advertisements for tutoring or babysitting, you see a neon green band poster. Jagged black letters spell out “Acid Murder Sabbath" on top of a silhouette of praying skeletal hands. Symbols similar to those carved into the candles surround the image. The band poster’s artwork makes you remember Mom’s favorite band T-Shirt, the one that used to scare you as a kid. You smile slightly at the memory of Mom scooping you up in a hug to stop you from crying, chuckling and saying ‘Things that look scary aren’t always evil’. – You continue pedaling down the street while humming the melody from the night before, sometimes blending it together with random snippets you remember from various metal songs. Looking up you see the outline of the local Catholic church, and it suddenly dawns on you why the melody seems so familiar. It reminds you of the singing you could sometimes hear coming from inside on Sundays. The mishmash of music now playing in your head gives you a strange sense of comfort as you bike past the church. – The street lights flicking on makes you realize how late it's gotten and you head back home. As you open the front door, you hear a loud banging coming from the direction of the kitchen. Peeking your head in, you see Henry slam the oven door shut before glancing in your direction. “Dinner should be ready soon, go get washed up.” He says before turning his back towards you again. A tight knot forms in your throat as you hurry to the bathroom, the continued sound of banging making you flinch. You’d never known Henry to slam things, at least not on purpose. You silently hope that this bad mood is temporary. – After washing up, you silently go about setting the table, hoping to win yourself some brownie points for doing so without being asked. If Henry notices, he doesn’t say anything. Halfway through dinner Henry's attention starts to drift, his eyes regularly flicking to the wall clock. "Since I cooked, you get to clean. I’m going to hit the hay.", he says as he starts to clear the table, his dinner mostly untouched. Laying on top of the covers you watch the clock and wait. – As the time ticks over from 11:59pm to 12:00am, the sound of Henry's bedroom door opening drifts down the hall. You move towards your own door, holding your breath and listening closely for the sound of his shuffling feet. At first you're greeted by silence before hearing a faint rummaging sound from the back of the house followed by quickly moving footsteps in the hall. More rummaging. You quietly breathe out and slip into the hallway. [[2-END-C]] [[2-END-S]] [[3-END-C-RC-SM-CD]] [[3-END-S-RC-SM-CD]] [[3-END-C-RC-SM-WB]] [[3-END-S-RC-SM-WB]] [[4-END-RC-SM-WB-CD]]

''NIGHT 2 - SURVIVED - RC/SS'' Quietly shutting the door to your bedroom you grab the shoe box from under your bed, hearing the soft clatter of the candles knocking into each other. You examine the string tied bundle of dried herbs. Under the lingering burnt smell you pick up the same earthy, almost skunky, musk that had been coming from under your bedroom door. There’s something oddly familiar and comforting about the scent, though you can’t put your finger on why. Dropping the bundle into the box you study the candles again, unable to ignore the feeling that you’ve seen them somewhere before. Sitting on your bed in the dark, you suddenly remember a horror movie you’d see recently with your friend Aimee. There was a big stone carved with symbols that was being used to imprison a demon. Moving the stone ends up breaking the seal, but you’d passed out before the movie ended. You slide the box back under your bed before burrowing beneath the covers, with the faint scent drifting up from under your bed as you finally fall asleep. – You open your eyes to the sun peeking into your room, vaguely aware of the sharp bang on your bedroom door that initially pulled you awake. Henry is already seated at the table and as you settle into your seat his head jerks up, sniffing the air before his dark rimmed eyes land on you. You realize with a start that the smokey scent from the herb bundle has seeped into your clothes. You pull at the collar of your shirt and give yourself a theatrical sniff. “What? You trying to say I smell bad?” You say, hoping your forced dismissive tone sells the joke. He stares at you unblinking for a few seconds too long before nodding with a look of slight disgust. – “I want you to get outside today. You’ve been spending a lot of time in front of the TV. Go ride your bike or something.” He pauses “But make sure you shower tonight, you do stink.” "Trying to get rid of me?" you ask, half jokingly. A look of annoyance flashes across his face, but he doesn’t respond. The air outside is humid but pleasant, not at the stages of unbearable summer heat. You ride aimlessly around your neighborhood, letting your thoughts wander to the box, and its weird contents, currently sitting under your bed. – Thinking about the symbols carved into the candle, you shudder. Why do those hard angled lines give you the willies? The horror movie you and Aimee hadn’t watched hadn’t been that scary, you’d fallen asleep half way through after all. Glancing at fluttering paper stapled to a telephone pole, you pull your bike to a stop. On top of several weathered papers, missing pets and advertisements for tutoring or babysitting, you see a neon green band poster. Jagged black letters spell out “Acid Murder Sabbath" on top of a silhouette of praying skeletal hands. Symbols similar to those carved into the candles surround the image. The band poster’s artwork makes you remember Mom’s favorite band T-Shirt, the one that used to scare you as a kid. You smile slightly at the memory of Mom scooping you up in a hug to stop you from crying, chuckling and saying ‘Things that look scary aren’t always evil’. – You lean against your bike and sniff at your sleeves, where the dried herb bundle had been hidden the night before. The smell feels even more familiar now, and you wrack your brain to try and remember why. The comforting feeling it elicits makes you think it might be one of MOm’s perfumes or lotions, but you dismiss the notion almost immediately. She tended to lean towards anything vanilla scented, nothing like the warm woody smell clinging to you from the night before. – The street lights flicking on makes you realize how late it's gotten and you head back home. You hear clattering sounds coming from the kitchen and peek your head in to see Henry cooking dinner. He glances your direction and gives you a tired smile. “Set the table, will ya?”, he asks before turning back to the stove. Grabbing plates and forks, you can’t shake the feeling that the bags under Henry’s eyes have gotten darker since this morning. – Between bites of food, you make several attempts to strike up a conversation with Henry but your questions are mostly met with noncommittal noises. Eventually his attention starts to drift, his eyes regularly flicking to the wall clock. "It’s getting late, let’s get the dishes done. I’m going to call it an early night" Henry finally says and starts to clear the table, his dinner mostly untouched. Laying on top of the covers you watch the clock and wait. – As the time ticks over from 11:59pm to 12:00am, the sound of Henry's bedroom door opening drifts down the hall. You move towards your own door, holding your breath and listening closely for the sound of his shuffling feet. At first you're greeted by silence before hearing a faint rummaging sound from the back of the house followed by quickly moving footsteps in the hall. More rummaging. You quietly breathe out and slip into the hallway. [[2-END-C]] [[2-END-S]] [[3-END-C-RC-SS-CD]] [[3-END-S-RC-SS-CD]] [[3-END-C-RC-SS-WB]] [[3-END-S-RC-SS-WB]] [[4-END-RC-SS-WB-CD]]

''NIGHT 2 - SURVIVED - SB'' Quietly closing your bedroom door and climbing into bed, you wonder if maybe your Mom is right about you having an overactive imagination. Henry's behavior has been weird, sure, but maybe it really was just insomnia or something at work stressing him out? You can still feel the slightly tacky quality of the black salt that’s still hidden under your bed. How could work stress or insomnia explain that away? You lay down in bed, still arguing with yourself until you drift into sleep. – The series of sharp knocks on your door the following morning come far earlier than you’d like. Pulling yourself out of bed, you’re beginning to feel the toll of running on only a few hours of sleep. As you settle in front of your breakfast, the internal argument from the night before starts up again. 'You really are blowing things out of proportion', you think to yourself. 'Maybe the salt isn’t even Henry’s, maybe it’s just fancy salt, something your Mom got from one of her friends’. When Henry sits down next to you and picks up the morning paper, you notice the dark circles under his eyes have gotten deeper. You feel a pang of worry and wonder if Henry's bout of ‘insomnia’ has been going on longer than just the past few nights. – He catches you staring and blinks. “What? Something on my face?” He rubs a hand along his cheek, the scratching sound that follows making it clear he hasn’t shaved for a few days. You shake your head and shrug. “Has Mom mentioned any new food trends, like dying salt or something?” You ask, trying to keep your voice nonchalant. He stares at you for a moment, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Nope. Why?” There’s an edge to his voice and you quickly drop your eyes to your plate with another shrug. The silence stretches for a few seconds too long before he turns back to the paper. – "You've been spending quite a bit of time in front of the TV - I think you should get some time outside today. Go for a bike ride." He says after a few minutes, a statement rather than a request. "Trying to get rid of me?" You ask, only half joking. He nods absently, and you aren’t sure if he’s agreeing with you or just didn’t hear your question. "Your Mom'll have my head if she finds out I let you rot your brain all weekend. Get some fresh air, it'll do you some good". – The air outside is humid but pleasant, not at the stages of unbearable summer heat. You ride aimlessly around your neighborhood letting your thoughts wander to the box, and the black salt, sitting under your bed. Your mind wanders to your Grandmother, and you recall a memory of an old book of fables and fairytales she would read to you when you were little. You hadn’t thought about that it in years, but the soft draw string bag sitting under your bed has coaxed it to the front of your mind. You try to recall if there was any mention of black salt, but all that immediately comes to mind is the constant warning to never step inside a mushroom ring - unless you wanted to be whisked off by the fairies – The street lights flicking on makes you realize how late it's gotten and you head back home. You hear clattering sounds coming from the kitchen and peek your head in to see Henry cooking dinner. He glances your direction and gives you a tired smile. “Set the table, will ya?”, he asks before turning back to the stove. Grabbing plates and forks, you can’t shake the feeling that the bags under Henry’s eyes have gotten darker since this morning. – Between bites of food, you make several attempts to strike up a conversation with Henry but your questions are mostly met with noncommittal noises. Eventually his attention starts to drift, his eyes regularly flicking to the wall clock. "It’s getting late, let’s get the dishes done. I’m going to call it an early night" Henry finally says and starts to clear the table, his dinner mostly untouched. Laying on top of the covers you watch the clock and wait. – As the time ticks over from 11:59pm to 12:00am, the sound of Henry's bedroom door opening drifts down the hall. You move towards your own door, holding your breath and listening closely for the sound of his shuffling feet. At first you're greeted by silence before hearing a faint rummaging sound from the back of the house followed by quickly moving footsteps in the hall. More rummaging. You quietly breathe out and slip into the hallway. [[1-END-C]] [[1-END-S]] [[2-END-C-SB-CD]] [[2-END-S-SB-CD]] [[2-END-C-SB-WB]] [[2-END-S-SB-WB]] [[3-END-SB-WB-CD]]

''NIGHT 2 - SURVIVED - SB/SM'' Quietly shutting the door to your bedroom you grab the shoe box from under your bed, hearing the drawstring bag shifting in the bottom. Pulling the folded paper from your pocket, you bring it close to your face for a better look at the music notes scrawled across the page. Reading music might not be your strong suite, but you silently try to play the tune in your head. It doesn’t take long to realize this is the same song you heard Henry humming from his office. You see the words “Sub Tuum Praesidium” written in ornate calligraphy at the top of the page. You fold the paper, tucking it into the box next to the drawstring bag and pushing the box back under your bed. Burrowing beneath the covers, the melody playing on a loop in your head as you finally fall asleep. – You open your eyes to the sun peeking into your room, vaguely aware of the sharp bang on your bedroom door that initially pulled you awake. As you settle in front of your breakfast, you absently start humming the music from the night before. You feel heat on the side of your face and look over to see Henry staring at you, with dark rimmed unblinking eyes. "Where did you hear that song?" Henry asks, an edge to his voice that surprises you. While trying to think of a convincing lie, your mouth answers before your brain has time to give any input. "Not sure, I woke up with it stuck in my head". You can feel your heart pounding as you hold Henry's stare. You watch his face, seeing the internal debate of if he believes you or not. After a moment, he finally nods and reaches for the morning paper. – "You've been spending a lot of time in front of the TV - you should get outside today. Go ride your bike or something.” A command rather than a question. "Trying to get rid of me?" you ask, half jokingly. A look of annoyance flashes across his face, but he doesn’t respond. The air outside is humid but pleasant, not at the stages of unbearable summer heat. You ride aimlessly around your neighborhood, letting your thoughts wander to the box, and its weird contents, currently sitting under your bed. – Your mind wanders to your Grandmother, and you recall a memory of an old book of fables and fairytales she would read to you when you were little. You hadn’t thought about that it in years, but the soft draw string bag sitting under your bed has coaxed it to the front of your mind. You try to recall if there was any mention of black salt, but all that immediately comes to mind is the constant warning to never step inside a mushroom ring - unless you wanted to be whisked off by the fairies. Looking up you see the outline of the local Catholic church, and it suddenly dawns on you why the melody seems so familiar. It reminds you of the singing you could sometimes hear coming from inside on Sundays. Humming the notes to yourself gives you a strange sense of comfort as you continue peddling. – The street lights flicking on makes you realize how late it's gotten and you head back home. As you open the front door, you hear a loud banging coming from the direction of the kitchen. Peeking your head in, you see Henry slam the oven door shut before glancing in your direction. “Dinner should be ready soon, go get washed up.” He says before turning his back towards you again. A tight knot forms in your throat as you hurry to the bathroom, the continued sound of banging making you flinch. You’d never known Henry to slam things, at least not on purpose. You silently hope that this bad mood is temporary. – After washing up, you silently go about setting the table, hoping to win yourself some brownie points for doing so without being asked. If Henry notices, he doesn’t say anything. Halfway through dinner Henry's attention starts to drift, his eyes regularly flicking to the wall clock. "Since I cooked, you get to clean. I’m going to hit the hay.", he says as he starts to clear the table, his dinner mostly untouched. Laying on top of the covers you watch the clock and wait. – As the time ticks over from 11:59pm to 12:00am, the sound of Henry's bedroom door opening drifts down the hall. You move towards your own door, holding your breath and listening closely for the sound of his shuffling feet. At first you're greeted by silence before hearing a faint rummaging sound from the back of the house followed by quickly moving footsteps in the hall. More rummaging. You quietly breathe out and slip into the hallway. [[2-END-C]] [[2-END-S]] [[3-END-C-SB-SM-CD]] [[3-END-S-SB-SM-CD]] [[3-END-C-SB-SM-WB]] [[3-END-S-SB-SM-WB]] [[4-END-SB-SM-WB-CD]]

''NIGHT 2 - SURVIVED - SB/SS'' Quietly shutting the door to your bedroom you grab the shoe box from under your bed, hearing the drawstring bag shifting in the bottom. You examine the string tied bundle of dried herbs. Under the lingering burnt smell you pick up the same earthy, almost skunky, musk that had been coming from under your bedroom door. There’s something oddly familiar and comforting about the scent, though you can’t put your finger on why. You drop the bundle next to the drawstring bag and push the box back under your bed. Burrowing beneath the covers, the melody plays on a loop in your head as you finally fall asleep. – You open your eyes to the sun peeking into your room, vaguely aware of the sharp bang on your bedroom door that initially pulled you awake. Henry is already seated at the table and as you settle into your seat his head jerks up, sniffing the air before his dark rimmed eyes land on you. You realize with a start that the smokey scent from the herb bundle has seeped into your clothes. You pull at the collar of your shirt and give yourself a theatrical sniff. “What? You trying to say I smell bad?” You say, hoping your forced dismissive tone sells the joke. He stares at you unblinking for a few seconds too long before nodding with a look of slight disgust. – “I want you to get outside today. You’ve been spending a lot of time in front of the TV. Go ride your bike or something.” He pauses “But make sure you shower tonight, you do stink.” "Trying to get rid of me?" you ask, half jokingly. A look of annoyance flashes across his face, but he doesn’t respond. The air outside is humid but pleasant, not at the stages of unbearable summer heat. You ride aimlessly around your neighborhood, letting your thoughts wander to the box, and its weird contents, currently sitting under your bed. – Your mind lands on your Grandmother, and you recall a memory of an old book of fables and fairytales she would read to you when you were little. You hadn’t thought about it in years, but the soft draw string bag sitting under your bed has coaxed it to the front of your mind. You try to recall if there was any mention of black salt, but all that immediately comes to mind is the constant warning to never step inside a mushroom ring - unless you wanted to be whisked off by the fairies. Seeing a nearby park, you pull your bike to a stop in the shade to rest for a few minutes. – You lean your bike against the bench and sniff at your sleeves, where the dried herb bundle had been hidden the night before. The smell feels even more familiar now, and you wrack your brain to try and remember why. The comforting feeling it elicits makes you think it might be one of Mom’s perfumes or lotions, but you dismiss the notion almost immediately. She tended to lean towards anything vanilla scented, nothing like the warm woody smell clinging to you from the night before. – The street lights flicking on makes you realize how late it's gotten and you head back home. You hear clattering sounds coming from the kitchen and peek your head in to see Henry cooking dinner. He glances your direction and gives you a tired smile. “Set the table, will ya?”, he asks before turning back to the stove. Grabbing plates and forks, you can’t shake the feeling that the bags under Henry’s eyes have gotten darker since this morning. – Between bites of food, you make several attempts to strike up a conversation with Henry but your questions are mostly met with noncommittal noises. Eventually his attention starts to drift, his eyes regularly flicking to the wall clock. "It’s getting late, let’s get the dishes done. I’m going to call it an early night" Henry finally says and starts to clear the table, his dinner mostly untouched. Laying on top of the covers you watch the clock and wait. – As the time ticks over from 11:59pm to 12:00am, the sound of Henry's bedroom door opening drifts down the hall. You move towards your own door, holding your breath and listening closely for the sound of his shuffling feet. At first you're greeted by silence before hearing a faint rummaging sound from the back of the house followed by quickly moving footsteps in the hall. More rummaging. You quietly breathe out and slip into the hallway. [[2-END-C]] [[2-END-S]] [[3-END-C-SB-SS-CD]] [[3-END-S-SB-SS-CD]] [[3-END-C-SB-SS-WB]] [[3-END-S-SB-SS-WB]] [[4-END-SB-SS-WB-CD]]

''NIGHT 2 - SURVIVED - SM'' Sneaking back to the safety of your bedroom, you grab a shoe box from your closet and sit down on your bed. Pulling the folded paper from your pocket, you bring it close to your face for a better look at the music notes scrawled across the page. Reading music might not be your strong suite, but you silently try to play the tune in your head. It doesn’t take long to realize this is the same son you heard Henry humming from his office. You see the words “Sub Tuum Praesidium” written in ornate calligraphy at the top of the page. You fold the paper and tuck it into the shoe box before shoving it under your bed. Burrowing beneath the covers, the melody plays on a loop in your head as you fall asleep. – The series of sharp knocks on your door the following morning come far earlier than you’d like. Pulling yourself out of bed, you’re beginning to feel the toll of running on only a few hours of sleep. As you settle in front of your breakfast, you absently start humming the song that’s been stuck in your head. Henry’s body tenses as he sits down across from you. “Huh, I don’t think I’ve heard that one before?” He says with a hard edge to his voice, staring at you intently with dark ringed eyes. You feel a sudden pang of worry and wonder how long this bout of ‘insomnia’ has been going on for. “Yeah, it’s been stuck in my head for a couple days. I don’t know where I’ve heard it before.” You reply, dropping your eyes to your plate. – "You've been spending quite a bit of time in front of the TV - I think you should get some time outside today. Go for a bike ride." He says after a few minutes, a statement rather than a request. "Trying to get rid of me?" You ask, only half joking. He nods absently, and you aren’t sure if he’s agreeing with you or just didn’t hear your question. "Your Mom'll have my head if she finds out I let you rot your brain all weekend. Get some fresh air, it'll do you some good". – The air outside is humid but pleasant, not at the stages of unbearable summer heat. You ride aimlessly around your neighborhood, not realizing that you’re still humming the song from the night before. Looking up you see the outline of the local Catholic church, and it suddenly dawns on you why the melody seems so familiar. It reminds you of the singing you could sometimes hear coming from inside on Sundays. – The street lights flicking on makes you realize how late it's gotten and you head back home. You hear clattering sounds coming from the kitchen and peek your head in to see Henry cooking dinner. He glances your direction and gives you a tired smile. “Set the table, will ya?”, he asks before turning back to the stove. Grabbing plates and forks, you can’t shake the feeling that the bags under Henry’s eyes have gotten darker since this morning. – Between bites of food, you make several attempts to strike up a conversation with Henry but your questions are mostly met with noncommittal noises. Eventually his attention starts to drift, his eyes regularly flicking to the wall clock. "It’s getting late, let’s get the dishes done. I’m going to call it an early night" Henry finally says and starts to clear the table, his dinner mostly untouched. Laying on top of the covers you watch the clock and wait. – As the time ticks over from 11:59pm to 12:00am, the sound of Henry's bedroom door opening drifts down the hall. You move towards your own door, holding your breath and listening closely for the sound of his shuffling feet. At first you're greeted by silence before hearing a faint rummaging sound from the back of the house followed by quickly moving footsteps in the hall. More rummaging. You quietly breathe out and slip into the hallway. [[1-END-C]] [[1-END-S]] [[2-END-C-SM-CD]] [[2-END-S-SM-CD]] [[2-END-C-SM-WB]] [[2-END-S-SM-WB]] [[3-END-SM-WB-CD]]

''NIGHT 2 - SURVIVED - SS' Sneaking back to the safety of your bedroom, you grab a shoe box from your closet and sit down on your bed. You examine the string tied bundle of dried herbs. Under the lingering burnt smell you pick up the same earthy, almost skunky, musk that had been coming from under your bedroom door. There’s something oddly familiar and comforting about the scent, though you can’t put your finger on why. Dropping the bundle into the box, you shove it under your bed and burrow into your covers. – The series of sharp knocks on your door the following morning come far earlier than you’d like. Pulling yourself out of bed, you’re beginning to feel the toll of running on only a few hours of sleep. As you settle in front of your breakfast, the internal argument from the night before starts up again. 'You really are blowing things out of proportion', you think to yourself. 'Maybe those weird herbs aren’t even Henry’s, it could be incense from one of your Mom’s friends for all you know'. When Henry sits down across from you, he sniffs the air before looking at you intently with dark ringed eyes. You feel a sudden pang of worry and wonder how long this bout of ‘insomnia’ has been going on for. Realizing that the woody smell from the bundle of herbs has seeped into your clothes, you pull at the collar of your shirt and theatrically sniff yourself. “What? You trying to say that I smell bad?” You hope your dismissive tone of voice sells the joke. – The corners of his mouth twitch slightly in the ghost of a smile before he shakes his head and picks up the paper. "You've been spending quite a bit of time in front of the TV - I think you should get some time outside today. Go for a bike ride." He says after a few minutes, a statement rather than a request. "Trying to get rid of me?" You ask, only half joking. He nods absently, and you aren’t sure if he’s agreeing with you or just didn’t hear your question. "Your Mom'll have my head if she finds out I let you rot your brain all weekend. Get some fresh air, it'll do you some good". – The air outside is humid but pleasant, not at the stages of unbearable summer heat. You ride aimlessly around your neighborhood letting your thoughts wander to the half burnt bundle of dried herbs under your bed. At first you consider if the smell reminded you of one of Mom’s perfumes or lotions, but dismiss the notion almost immediately. She tended to lean towards anything vanilla scented, nothing like the warm woody smell that had clung to your shirt from the night before. – The street lights flicking on makes you realize how late it's gotten and you head back home. You hear clattering sounds coming from the kitchen and peek your head in to see Henry cooking dinner. He glances your direction and gives you a tired smile. “Set the table, will ya?”, he asks before turning back to the stove. Grabbing plates and forks, you can’t shake the feeling that the bags under Henry’s eyes have gotten darker since this morning. – Between bites of food, you make several attempts to strike up a conversation with Henry but your questions are mostly met with noncommittal noises. Eventually his attention starts to drift, his eyes regularly flicking to the wall clock. "It’s getting late, let’s get the dishes done. I’m going to call it an early night" Henry finally says and starts to clear the table, his dinner mostly untouched. Laying on top of the covers you watch the clock and wait. – As the time ticks over from 11:59pm to 12:00am, the sound of Henry's bedroom door opening drifts down the hall. You move towards your own door, holding your breath and listening closely for the sound of his shuffling feet. At first you're greeted by silence before hearing a faint rummaging sound from the back of the house followed by quickly moving footsteps in the hall. More rummaging. You quietly breathe out and slip into the hallway. ' [[1-END-C]] [[1-END-S]] [[2-END-C-SS-CD]] [[2-END-S-SS-CD]] [[2-END-C-SS-WB]] [[2-END-S-SS-WB]] [[3-END-SS-WB-CD]]

''NIGHT 2 - SB/SS/SM'' Heading back to your bedroom you pull the shoe box from its hiding place. Pulling the folded paper from your pocket, you bring it close to your face for a better look at the music notes scrawled across the page. Reading music might not be your strong suite, but you silently try to play the tune in your head. It doesn’t take long to realize this is the same song you heard Henry humming from his office. You see the words “Sub Tuum Praesidium” written in ornate calligraphy at the top of the page. – You fold up the paper and place it inside the box, next to the small drawstring bag, before turning your attention to the sting tied bundle of dry herbs. Under the lingering burnt smell you pick up the same earthy, almost skunky, musk that had been coming from under your door. There’s something oddly familiar and comforting about the scent though you can’t put your finger on why. You drop the bundle into the box and shove it back under your bed. With the strange melody playing on a loop in your head and the faint smell of the smudge stick drifting up from its hiding place, you have a hard time falling asleep. Eventually, your eyes close… – BANG! A fist slamming into your bedroom door yanks you into consciousness, almost causing you to fall out of bed. As your brain slowly catches up to your body being rudely awakened, you’re aware of a vague burning smell. You stumble into the hallway, the smell gets stronger and a string of curses emanate from the kitchen. Looking in you see a thin string of smoke coming off a frying pan. A still swearing Henry grabs the pan and dumps it into the sink. You stand frozen in the doorway until Henry turns and his blood shot eyes land on you. – He takes a step towards you, moving so suddenly that you flinch away. A short, harsh laugh escapes him and your face flushes hot from surprise. “Looks like there’s no breakfast, unless you decide you want to get off your lazy ass and make it yourself for once.”, he spits the words at you. The heat in your face intensifies as you stare at him. His face is twisted in a smile that you’ve never seen before, something between a sneer and disgust. “Figure it out. I’m working again today, so either make yourself scarce or be quiet as the dead. Got me?” It feels like the wind has been knocked out of you, making it impossible for you to answer. – His eyes narrow and he takes another step towards you. You begin nodding frantically and move away from him as he walks past you into the hallway. The rattling crash of the office door banging shut makes you flinch again. With your ears ringing from the silence that settles into the house, you begin moving on auto-pilot. Taking extra pains to be silent, you rush to the side yard and grab your bike, throwing yourself onto the pedals to get as much distance between you and the house (and Henry), as possible. – Halfway down the street you feel hot tears running down your face, the shock of the morning finally breaking through the panic. You make it to a nearby park, nearly falling off your bike as you dismount and collapse on a bench to finish crying. You feel better after a few minutes. – You rack your brain, Henry wasn’t just acting ‘strange’ he was acting like a completely different person. You’d seen him upset before, of course you had, but nothing on this scale. Maybe he was drinking? But that seemed insane, your Mom only kept a couple of beers in the fridge and Henry complained alcohol gave him a headache. Drugs? That thought immediately makes you laugh, surprising yourself but helping to soothe your rattled nerves. Henry was a regular D.A.R.E volunteer, there was no way. Your thoughts continue to chase themselves in circles until you realize how late it’s gotten. With a pit in your stomach, you climb back onto your bike and head towards home. – You quietly open the front door and listen before cautiously walking into the silent house. Creeping into the hallway you glance at Henry’s office door and feel a mild sense of relief when you see it still closed. Your stomach rumbles, a reminder that you haven’t eaten today, so you search the fridge to find some left over pizza. Deciding not to risk another run in with Henry for today, you retreat to your room with the cold pizza. – Sitting on the floor, you pull the box out from under your bed and study the items inside. As you open the lid, the smokey smell of the herb bundle hits you again and you realize why it’s so familiar. At the start of the year, whenever your friend Aimee would open her backpack this same smell would drift from it. You’d asked her about it once, and she’d said her Mom always insisted on “smudging” the house after the holidays. “She says it cleans out any bad energy, or something like that.”, she’d explained while rolling her eyes. – You drop the smudge stick back into the box and reach for the drawstring bag. Toss it between your hands, remembering the various stories your Grandmother used to read you. There was this huge book of fables and fairytales that she was particularly fond of, and you try to recall if there were any that mentioned black salt. The closest thing is spilling a mixture of salt and sugar to keep a house goblin distracted. While smiling at the memory of curling up on your Grandmother's lap while she read to you, you absently start humming the melody that had been stuck in your head since last night. – You shift your attention to the folded sheet music. Looking at the sweeping letters at the top of the page, Sub Tuum Praesidium, you feel a flicker of recognition. There’s an old Catholic church that you sometimes pass while riding your bike. On hotter days, the doors are propped open and you could hear choir practice on Wednesday. You aren’t sure if they’ve ever sung this song specifically, but there is absolutely a similarity. – Hearing Henry exit his office and slam the door to the bedroom, you drop the paper into the box with a start and quickly push it back under your bed. You switch off your bedroom lights and lay on top of your bed, staring at the glowing numbers on your desk clock. – As the time ticks over from 11:59pm to 12:00am, the sound of Henry's bedroom door opening drifts down the hall. You move towards your own door, holding your breath and listening closely for the sound of his shuffling feet. At first you're greeted by silence before hearing a faint rummaging sound from the back of the house followed by quickly moving footsteps in the hall. More rummaging. – With your hand on the doorknob, you pause, hearing the blood pulsing in your ears. What if he catches you out of bed? Given the way he was acting this morning, you shudder at the thought. Taking a deep breath, you realize you’ve already made up your mind. Something was going on, and you needed to get to the bottom of it. You quietly breathe out and slip into the hallway. [[3-END-C]] [[3-END-S]] [[4-END-C-SB-SM-SS-CD]] [[4-END-S-SB-SM-SS-CD]] [[4-END-C-SB-SM-SS-WB]] [[4-END-S-SB-SM-SS-WB]] [[5-END-SB-SM-SS-WB-CD]]

''NIGHT 2 - SS/SM'' Heading back to your bedroom you grab a shoe box from your closet and sit down on your bed. Pulling the folded paper from your pocket, you bring it close to your face for a better look at the music notes scrawled across the page. Reading music might not be your strong suite, but you silently try to play the tune in your head. It doesn’t take long to realize this is the same son you heard Henry humming from his office. You see the words “Sub Tuum Praesidium” written in ornate calligraphy at the top of the page. – You fold up the paper and place it inside the box, turning your attention to the sting tied bundle of dry herbs. Under the lingering burnt smell you pick up the same earthy, almost skunky, musk that had been coming from under your door. There’s something oddly familiar and comforting about the scent though you can’t put your finger on why. You drop the bundle into the box, sliding it under the bed. With the strange melody playing on a loop in your head and the woody smell of burnt herbs lingering on your skin, you slowly drift to sleep. – A hard knock on your bedroom door pulls you awake the following morning. Even though there’s light slipping into through the windows, the house seems darker than normal as you move into the hallway. You shiver slightly as you slide into your seat, absently noticing the air has a chill to it. Across from you Henry’s face is covered by the morning paper. Taking a few bites of toast, you ask him how he slept last night. The paper rustles as he turns the page, but doesn't respond. You think for a moment, then smile slightly before asking, “Why do zombies read the newspaper?” – You wait, expecting a chuckle but instead hear a sharp sigh as he puts the paper down, glaring at you with dark ringed eyes. “For the headlines…” You finish softly, trying to hide your surprise at the look of irritation on Henry’s face. The corners of his mouth twitch, but you can’t tell if it’s in exasperation or a smile. “Very funny. Look, you’ve been spending too much time in front of that TV. Go for a bike ride or something, I need some peace and quiet.” You nod, silently returning to your breakfast as he disappears behind the paper. – The air outside is humid but pleasant, not at the stages of unbearable summer heat. You ride aimlessly around your neighborhood, still feeling the sting from Henry’s cold shoulder that morning. He was always telling those stupid jokes, laughing at them even when no one else found them funny. You remember one (“How does the butcher introduce his wife? Meat Patty!”) that he told every couple of days for weeks straight, doubling over in laughter each time. Maybe the stress from work, and being in charge on his own, was getting to him. Your thoughts bounce between Henry and the box, with its weird contents, currently sitting under your bed. – Looking up you see the outline of the local Catholic church, and it suddenly dawns on you why the melody seems so familiar. It reminds you of the singing you could sometimes hear coming from inside on Sundays. Humming the notes to yourself gives you a strange sense of comfort as you continue to pedal, taking a deep breath. You try to see if there’s anything lingering in the afternoon breeze that’s similar to the dried herbs from the night before, but only pick up the warm summer air. You debate if the smell reminded you of Mom’s perfumes or lotions, but dismiss the thought almost immediately. She tended to lean towards anything vanilla scented, nothing like the warm woody smell that had leaked under your bedroom door. – The street lights flicking on makes you realize how late it's gotten and you head back home. As you open the front door, you hear a loud banging coming from the direction of the kitchen. Peeking your head in, you see Henry slam the oven door shut before glancing in your direction. “Dinner should be ready soon, go get washed up.” He says before turning his back towards you again. A tight knot forms in your throat as you hurry to the bathroom, the continued sound of banging making you flinch. You’d never known Henry to slam things, at least not on purpose. You silently hope that this bad mood is temporary. – After washing up, you silently go about setting the table, hoping to win yourself some brownie points for doing so without being asked. If Henry notices, he doesn’t say anything. Halfway through dinner Henry's attention starts to drift, his eyes regularly flicking to the wall clock. "Since I cooked, you get to clean. I’m going to hit the hay.", he says as he starts to clear the table, his dinner mostly untouched. Laying on top of the covers you watch the clock and wait. – As the time ticks over from 11:59pm to 12:00am, the sound of Henry's bedroom door opening drifts down the hall. You move towards your own door, holding your breath and listening closely for the sound of his shuffling feet. At first you're greeted by silence before hearing a faint rummaging sound from the back of the house followed by quickly moving footsteps in the hall. More rummaging. You quietly breathe out and slip into the hallway. [[2-END-C]] [[2-END-S]] [[3-END-C-SM-SS-CD]] [[3-END-S-SM-SS-CD]] [[3-END-C-SM-SS-WB]] [[3-END-S-SM-SS-WB]] [[4-END-SM-SS-WB-CD]]

''RITUAL ENDING - CAUGHT'' [Newspaper clipping] Another vicious murder rocks Nightshade Glade community Two Nightshade Glade residents were found dead in their home late last night, local police said. The bodies of Henry Simmons, 45, and his step daughter Lauren Carmen, 14, were discovered by law enforcement after responding to a "family disturbance" call in the early hours of Monday morning. "We received a call from a concerned neighbor around 3am," officials said. "They informed us that screaming had been imminent from the house, on and off, for the past hour". – Arriving at the Simmons home, police found the door hanging open but no signs of forced entry. Sources close to the investigation said the scene inside the home was "brutal, both bodies appeared to have been torn apart by wild animals. It was like something out of a nightmare". This is the third violent murder within the Nightshade Glade area in the past year, leaving residents rattled. "We do not believe these killings are connected, at this time," Nightshade Glade Police Department spokesperson Harvey Longs said. "All three of these investigations are still ongoing, and we ask if anyone has any information to please contact our tips hot line....” [[Story Intro]]

''RITUAL ENDING - SURVIVED'' As quickly as the changes started, reality slammed back into place. Waves of fear rock your body, but begin to slow as your eyes take in the scene around you. Everything seems back to normal... A pained groan drifts from the hallway, and you cautiously crept towards the sound. Henry - but was it really him? - lay crumpled on the floor. He turns towards you, bleary eyed. "Hey Bud, you okay?". Relief knocks the wind out of you, as you throw your arms around him and begin to sob. – Over the following days, Henry tried to explain what had happened that weekend. Some, most, of it didn't make sense at first. Henry had begun to suspect something strange was happening to Tyler a few months ago. He had started falling asleep at his desk, there were strange marks on his hands and fingers, he started mixing up words and muttering to himself during class, Henry had overheard some of the teachers saying. At first, Henry figured it was a classic case of "troubles at home" but then Tyler didn't show up one day. Days turned into weeks and no one could say where Tyler had gone. – "I didn't mean to get so involved, but I couldn't stop thinking about the haunted look in Tyler's eyes the day before he vanished. He was sitting at the bus stop, just staring into the distance. I sat down next to him and asked how things were going, and he just opened and closed his mouth - like he wanted to say something but the wires between his brain and his mouth had been clipped. I was able to get a good look at his hands, and those marks weren't bruises - they were symbols that had been etched into his skin. Not cut, mind you, but more like indentations. Like his skin was bending around something invisible that was pressing into his skin." Henry had tried asking around but everyone seemed strangely disinterested in Tyler's unknown fate. – “That’s why you kept putting up the missing posters at the Library.” You’d asked, part way through the story. He nodded, rubbing a hand down his face. After sketching out the symbols he had seen, Henry started trying to decipher what they meant. That's where the trouble had really started. – "There's something going on in Nightshade Glade. I didn't find much, but those symbols are somehow related to the town's founders. Once I found that lead, I started noticing things - people following me home from work, strange noises and whispering when I was alone. I got scared, I didn't want anything to happen to you or your mother. So I started looking for something, anything, I could do to protect the house. I didn't know which one would work, so I tried them all...I must have gotten some of the instructions confused, that left enough of a crack for something to slip in." – You hadn’t been able to meet Henry’s eyes as you explained that he hadn’t gotten the instructions wrong, that you had been removing the items as you found them over the weekend. He was silent for a few seconds before wrapping you in a tight hug. “I’m so sorry, Bud. I never meant for any of this to happen. I figured keeping a tight lid on things would keep you safe…but I shouldn’t have lied to you. I’m so sorry.” You buried your head in his shoulder, the relief and understanding making you feel almost feverish. – After that, you and Henry diligently kept the protection wards up around the house. Henry stopped asking questions, at least in public, and after a while life settled into a new version of "normal". [[Story Intro]]

''RITUAL NIGHT TRIGGER'' There’s a sound like metal tearing and you frantically look around. Something is wrong, something is very wrong. The shadows twist up along the walls and the air feels thick, almost hard to breathe. You hear whispering voices seeping through the walls, seeming to come from every direction. From deep inside the house you hear a low growl. What have you done? – You scramble into your bedroom, snatching the shoe box from under your bed. Your head begins to pound and you stare at the collection of items, your stomach dropping as it dawns on you what they all had in common: protection. Whatever was happening to Henry had started after that first night when you picked up the bag of salt and those black candles. If that’s the case…then maybe there’s a chance you can save Henry. [[R-END-C]] [[R-END-S]]

''RITUAL NIGHT 2 - CAUGHT - RC/SB'' “What are you doing?” Henry’s voice is low and you feel heat rushing to your cheeks as his glare lands on you. “Bed. Now.” He says through gritted teeth, jabbing a finger in the direction of your room. The simmering anger behind each word makes your heart pound as you walk past him. His shadow looms in your doorway as you climb into bed, staring for a few seconds too long before shutting the door hard enough to make you jump. Pulling the blankets up to your chin, it takes you a while to calm down enough to finally fall asleep. – Three sharp bangs on your bedroom door the following morning jerk you awake. Already sitting down at the table in the darkened dining room, Henry's face is covered by the morning paper. You offer another apology as you take your seat, shivering slightly at the chill in the air, but are greeted by silence. ‘He must still be upset...', you think to yourself as you stare at your plate. After a few uncomfortable minutes, Henry lets out a hard sigh and sets the paper down. You flinch at the look of irritation on his face, his mouth set in a thin line. “Your Mom was clear about the rules before she left.” The hard edge in his voice causes you to drop your eyes to the table. - “No video games today, maybe not tomorrow either.” You look up, wanting to protest, but his glare instantly makes you reconsider. You don’t want to get into more trouble. “Go take your bike out or something.” He says, curtly, before vanishing behind the paper once again. The air outside is humid but pleasant, not at the stages of unbearable summer heat. You ride aimlessly around your neighborhood, annoyed at yourself for being caught but secretly grateful for an excuse to be away from the cold house. – Your thoughts bounce between Henry’s horrible mood and the box still sitting under your bed. With your grandmother already on your mind, you think back to spending the summers with her as a kid. There was a huge, or at least it felt huge to you at the time, book of fables and fairytales she used to read to you. You haven’t thought about that book in years, and try to remember if there were any stories in there about black salt. The only thing that you recall clearly are warnings about not stepping into mushroom rings, unless you wanted to be whisked away by the fairies. – The book brings another memory to mind, a horror movie you had watched recently with your friend Aimee. There was a big stone carved with symbols that was being used to imprison a demon. While the symbols in the movie and the ones carved into those candles might not be an exact match, you think they’re similar. – The street lights flicking on makes you realize how late it's gotten and you head back home. As you open the front door, you hear a loud banging coming from the direction of the kitchen. Peeking your head in, you see Henry slam the oven door shut before glancing in your direction. “Dinner should be ready soon, go get washed up.” He says before turning his back towards you again. A tight knot forms in your throat as you hurry to the bathroom, the continued sound of banging making you flinch. You’d never known Henry to slam things, at least not on purpose. Between this assault on the kitchen appliances and your bedroom door last night, you wonder if this is the new normal. – After washing up, you silently go about setting the table, hoping to win yourself some brownie points for doing so without being asked. If Henry notices, he doesn’t say anything. Halfway through dinner Henry's attention starts to drift, his eyes regularly flicking to the wall clock. "Since I cooked, you get to clean. I’m going to hit the hay.", he says as he starts to clear the table, his dinner mostly untouched. Laying on top of the covers you watch the clock and wait. – As the time ticks over from 11:59pm to 12:00am, the sound of Henry's bedroom door opening drifts down the hall. You move towards your own door, holding your breath and listening closely for the sound of his shuffling feet. At first you're greeted by silence before hearing a faint rummaging sound from the back of the house followed by quickly moving footsteps in the hall. More rummaging. You quietly breathe out and slip into the hallway. [[2-END-C-RC-SB]] [[2-END-S-RC-SB]] [[3-END-C-RC-SB-CD]] [[3-END-S-RC-SB-CD]] [[3-END-C-RC-SB-WB]] [[3-END-S-RC-SB-WB]] [[4-END-RC-SB-WB-CD]]

''RITUAL NIGHT 2 - CAUGHT - RC/SB/SM'' “What the hell are you doing out of bed?” The words hit you like a physical slap. You crumble the paper in your hand, stuffing it into your pocket as you turn to face Henry. Rage is etched into his features, his hands balled into fists at his side. Your brain grasps for an excuse, but before you can latch onto one he grabs you by the arm and practically drags you towards your room. You stumble through your doorway as he lets go of your arm with a slight shove. Leaning against your bed you stare at him, feeling your throat tighten with fear. – Henry’s body shakes slightly as he looks down at you. His face twists into a pain expression before settling into a blank slate. He turns and slams your door shut behind him. You start shaking yourself, trying to catch your breath while rubbing at your arm. You don’t think it’ll bruise, but the surprise and shock of having been grabbed at all heightens the pain. You wait until you hear the sound of Henry’s bedroom door banging shut before crawling under your covers, hearing your heart pounding in your ears. Shivering under your covers you replay your encounter with Henry, the strange melody looping in your mind making the entire scene feel even more surreal. Eventually, your eyes close… – The sound of your bedroom door hitting the wall yanks you awake and you sit up, blinking, to see Henry standing in the doorway. “Since you’ve clearly got energy to burn, you’re making breakfast. Get up and get moving”. He turns around and stalks into the darkened hallway before you can answer. Pulling yourself out of bed and into the dining room you see Henry, now sitting at the table with his arms crossed. His blood shot eyes stand out sharply against the growing dark circles beneath them. As you start to apologize, he interrupts you with a sharp laugh. “Yeah, I bet you are. Get moving, if you want breakfast you can make it yourself”. The vitriol in his voice makes you flinch and you duck into the kitchen, hoping that he doesn’t see the blotchy flush climbing up your face. – You stand in the kitchen, trying to collect your thoughts. “I’m working again today, so either make yourself scarce or be quiet as the dead. Got me?” Henry’s voice startles you into movement and you aimlessly grab for a pan. After a few seconds, you hear the rattling crash of the office door banging shut. You lean against the counter, feeling your legs tremble. Your body begins moving on auto-pilot. Taking extra pains to be silent you rush to the side yard and grab your bike, throwing yourself onto the pedals to get as much distance between you and the house (and Henry) as possible. – Halfway down the street you feel hot tears running down your face, the shock of the morning finally breaking through the panic. You make it to a nearby park, nearly falling off your bike as you dismount and collapse on a bench to finish crying. You feel better after a few minutes. – You rack your brain, Henry wasn’t just acting ‘strange’ he was acting like a completely different person. You’d seen him upset before, of course you had, but nothing on this scale. Maybe he was drinking? But that seemed insane, your Mom only kept a couple of beers in the fridge and Henry complained alcohol gave him a headache. Drugs? That thought immediately makes you laugh, surprising yourself but helping to soothe your rattled nerves. Henry was a regular D.A.R.E volunteer, there was no way. – Your thoughts continue to chase themselves in circles until you realize how late it’s gotten. With a pit in your stomach, you climb back onto your bike and head towards home. You quietly open the front door and listen before cautiously walking into the silent house. Creeping into the hallway you glance at Henry’s office door and feel a wave of relief when you see it still closed. Your stomach rumbles, a reminder that you haven’t eaten today, so you search the fridge to find some left over pizza. As you move a carton of milk, your eyes land the grainy black and white photo plastered to the cardboard side. – The word MISSING are printed above the photo of Tyler you’d seen on the news last night. This black and white version turns the cute missing front tooth into a void, making your stomach lurch. Pizza forgotten, you shut the fridge door and make your way into your bedroom. With Henry’s outburst this morning, you had completely forgotten about Tyler. You pace around your room, bouncing between too many thoughts. ‘Henry’s just stressed, that has to be it. I would be too if I knew a missing kid, right? But seriously, why would he be taking this out on me? He’s never acted like this before. Yeah, but you’ve never seen how he acts when there’s a kid missing before either.’ – Sitting on your bed, you feel something shifting in your pocket. Confused, you reach your hand in and suddenly remember the paper you had found the night before. Smoothing the winkles out on your desk, you see music notes scrawled across the page. At the top, in ornate calligraphy, you see the words “Sub Tuum Praesidium”. Reading music might not be your strong suite, but you silently sound out the tune in your head. It doesn’t take long to realize this is the same song you heard Henry humming from his office. You pull the box out from under your bed and examine the other items inside. – You pick up the drawstring bag, tossing it back and forth between your hands, finding the soft shifting sound the salt inside makes oddly comforting. Thinking back to your grandmother again, you remember her often reading to you from an oversized book of fables and fairytales when you were a kid. You think over the various stories, trying to recall if there were any that mentioned black salt. – The only thing that comes to mind were warnings to not step in mushroom rings, unless you wanted to be whisked away by the fairies. Smiling at the memories, you drop the bag back into the box and study the candles. Why do those hard angled lines give you the willies? The horror movie you and Aimee hadn’t watched hadn’t been that scary, you’d fallen asleep half way through after all. – Trying to recall the movie's title, you absently start humming the melody that had been stuck in your head since last night. As the melody loops, you feel a flicker of recognition. There’s an old Catholic church that you sometimes pass while riding your bike. On hotter days, the doors are propped open and you could hear choir practice on Wednesday. You aren’t sure if they’ve ever sung this song specifically, but there is absolutely a similarity. – Hearing Henry exit his office and slam the door to the bedroom makes you drop the candles into the box with a start. Snatching the wrinkled sheet music off your desk, you throw it in and quickly push everything back under your bed. You switch off your bedroom lights and lay on top of your bed.. ‘Being stressed out about a missing kid is one thing…that doesn’t explain all the other weird stuff going on in this house’, you think to yourself as you stare at the glowing numbers of your desk clock. – As the time ticks over from 11:59pm to 12:00am, the sound of Henry's bedroom door opening drifts down the hall. You move towards your own door, holding your breath and listening closely for the sound of his shuffling feet. At first you're greeted by silence before hearing a faint rummaging sound from the back of the house followed by quickly moving footsteps in the hall. More rummaging. – With your hand on the doorknob, you pause, hearing the blood pulsing in your ears. What if he catches you out of bed again? Given the way he’s been acting you shudder at the memory of his grip on your arm. Taking a deep breath, you realize you’ve already made up your mind. Something is going on, and you need to get to the bottom of it. You quietly breathe out and slip into the hallway. [[3-END-C-RC-SB-SM]] [[3-END-S-RC-SB-SM]] [[4-END-C-RC-SB-SM-CD]] [[4-END-S-RC-SB-SM-CD]] [[4-END-C-RC-SB-SM-WB]] [[4-END-S-RC-SB-SM-WB]] [[5-END-RC-SB-SM-WB-CD]]

''RITUAL NIGHT 2 - CAUGHT - RC/SB/SS'' “What the hell are you doing out of bed?” The words hit you like a physical slap. You stuff the string tied bundle into your sleeve as you turn to face Henry. Rage is etched into his features, his hands balled into fists at his side. Your brain grasps for an excuse, but before you can latch onto one he grabs you by the arm and practically drags you towards your room. You stumble through your doorway as he lets go of your arm with a slight shove. Leaning against your bed you stare at him, feeling your throat tighten with fear. – Henry’s body shakes slightly as he looks down at you. His face twists into a pain expression before settling into a blank slate. He turns and slams your door shut behind him. You start shaking yourself, trying to catch your breath while rubbing at your arm. You don’t think it’ll bruise, but the surprise and shock of having been grabbed at all heightens the pain. You wait until you hear the sound of Henry’s bedroom door banging shut before tossing the string tied bundle under your bed, hearing your heart pounding in your ears. You climb into bed, shivering under your covers as you replay your encounter with Henry, the strangely familiar scent drifting from under your bed making the entire scene feel even more surreal. Eventually, your eyes close… – The sound of your bedroom door hitting the wall yanks you awake and you sit up, blinking, to see Henry standing in the doorway. “Since you’ve clearly got energy to burn, you’re making breakfast. Get up and get moving”. He turns around and stalks into the darkened hallway before you can answer. Pulling yourself out of bed and into the dining room you see Henry, now sitting at the table with his arms crossed. His blood shot eyes stand out sharply against the growing dark circles beneath them. As you start to apologize, he interrupts you with a sharp laugh. “Yeah, I bet you are. Get moving, if you want breakfast you can make it yourself”. The vitriol in his voice makes you flinch and you duck into the kitchen, hoping that he doesn’t see the blotchy flush climbing up your face. – You stand in the kitchen, trying to collect your thoughts. “I’m working again today, so either make yourself scarce or be quiet as the dead. Got me?” Henry’s voice startles you into movement and you aimlessly grab for a pan. After a few seconds, you hear the rattling crash of the office door banging shut. You lean against the counter, feeling your legs tremble. Your body begins moving on auto-pilot. Taking extra pains to be silent you rush to the side yard and grab your bike, throwing yourself onto the pedals to get as much distance between you and the house (and Henry) as possible. – Halfway down the street you feel hot tears running down your face, the shock of the morning finally breaking through the panic. You make it to a nearby park, nearly falling off your bike as you dismount and collapse on a bench to finish crying. You feel better after a few minutes. – You rack your brain, Henry wasn’t just acting ‘strange’ he was acting like a completely different person. You’d seen him upset before, of course you had, but nothing on this scale. Maybe he was drinking? But that seemed insane, your Mom only kept a couple of beers in the fridge and Henry complained alcohol gave him a headache. Drugs? That thought immediately makes you laugh, surprising yourself but helping to soothe your rattled nerves. Henry was a regular D.A.R.E volunteer, there was no way. – Your thoughts continue to chase themselves in circles until you realize how late it’s gotten. With a pit in your stomach, you climb back onto your bike and head towards home. You quietly open the front door and listen before cautiously walking into the silent house. Creeping into the hallway you glance at Henry’s office door and feel a wave of relief when you see it still closed. Your stomach rumbles, a reminder that you haven’t eaten today, so you search the fridge to find some left over pizza. As you move a carton of milk, your eyes land the grainy black and white photo plastered to the cardboard side. – The words MISSING are printed above the photo of Tyler you’d seen on the news last night. This black and white version turns the cute missing front tooth into a void, making your stomach lurch. Pizza forgotten, you shut the fridge door and make your way into your bedroom. With Henry’s outburst this morning, you had completely forgotten about Tyler. You pace around your room, bouncing between too many thoughts. ‘Henry’s just stressed, that has to be it. I would be too if I knew a missing kid, right? But seriously, why would he be taking this out on me? He’s never acted like this before. Yeah, but you’ve never seen how he acts when there’s a kid missing before either.’ – Eventually you notice a woody, slightly musky, smell permeating your room. Confused, you look under your bed and see the abandoned string tied bundle you’d tossed there the night before. The top portion of the tied together dried herbs is blackened. Under the lingering burnt smell you pick up the same earthy, almost skunky, musk that had been coming from under your door. The smell is comforting though you can’t put your finger on why. You pull the box out from under your bed and examine the other items inside. – You pick up the drawstring bag, tossing it back and forth between your hands, finding the soft shifting sound the salt inside makes oddly comforting. Thinking back to your grandmother again, you remember her often reading to you from an oversized book of fables and fairytales when you were a kid. You think over the various stories, trying to recall if there were any that mentioned black salt. – The only thing that comes to mind were warnings to not step in mushroom rings, unless you wanted to be whisked away by the fairies. Smiling at the memories, you drop the bag back into the box and study the candles. Why do those hard angled lines give you the willies? The horror movie you and Aimee hadn’t watched hadn’t been that scary, you’d fallen asleep half way through after all. – Trying to recall the movie's title, and with Aimee already on your mind, it suddenly dawns on you why the smokey smell of the herb bundle is so familiar. At the start of the year, whenever your friend Aimee would open her backpack this same smell would drift from it. You’d asked her about it once, and she’d said her Mom always insisted on “smudging” the house after the holidays. “She says it cleans out any bad energy, or something like that.”, she’d explained while rolling her eyes. – Hearing Henry exit his office and slam the door to the bedroom makes you drop the candles into the box with a start. Snatching the wrinkled sheet music off your desk, you throw it in and quickly push everything back under your bed. You switch off your bedroom lights and lay on top of your bed.. ‘Being stressed out about a missing kid is one thing…that doesn’t explain all the other weird stuff going on in this house’, you think to yourself as you stare at the glowing numbers of your desk clock. – As the time ticks over from 11:59pm to 12:00am, the sound of Henry's bedroom door opening drifts down the hall. You move towards your own door, holding your breath and listening closely for the sound of his shuffling feet. At first you're greeted by silence before hearing a faint rummaging sound from the back of the house followed by quickly moving footsteps in the hall. More rummaging. – With your hand on the doorknob, you pause, hearing the blood pulsing in your ears. What if he catches you out of bed? Given the way he’s been acting you shudder at the memory of his grip on your arm. Taking a deep breath, you realize you’ve already made up your mind. Something is going on, and you need to get to the bottom of it. You quietly breathe out and slip into the hallway. [[3-END-C-RC-SB-SS]] [[3-END-S-RC-SB-SS]] [[4-END-C-RC-SB-SS-CD]] [[4-END-S-RC-SB-SS-CD]] [[4-END-C-RC-SB-SS-WB]] [[4-END-S-RC-SB-SS-WB]] [[5-END-RC-SB-SS-WB-CD]]

''RITUAL NIGHT 2 - RC/SB/SS/SM'' With your bedroom door shut you quietly slid the shoe box from its hiding place. You hear the soft clacking of the candles rolling into each other and the muted shifting of the draw string bag already inside. You set the string tied bundle on the floor before unrolling the paper you had hidden up your sleeve. Moving over to the window for more light, you see music notes scrawled across the page. Reading music might not be your strong suite, but you silently try to sound the tune out in your head. It doesn’t take long to realize this is the same song you heard Henry humming from his office. You see the words “Sub Tuum Praesidium” written in ornate calligraphy at the top of the page. – You fold up the paper and slide it into the box before picking up the bundle. Looking at it more closely, you realize it’s made up of dried herbs. Underneath the lingering burnt smell you pick up the same earthy, almost skunky, musk that had been coming from under your door. There’s something oddly familiar and comforting about the scent, though you can’t put your finger on why. Dropping the dried herbs into the box, you pick up the drawstring bag. Tossing it back and forth between your hands you smile to yourself, thinking back to your grandmother again. She had this massive book of fables and fairytales that she would read to you when you were younger, though you haven’t thought about it in years. – You try to recall if there were any stories about black salt, but all that comes to mind are warnings about not stepping into mushroom rings. Unless you wanted to be stolen away by the fairies, that is. Your attention turns to the candles, and you shudder slightly. Why do those hard angled lines give you the willies? The horror movie you and Aimee hadn’t watched hadn’t been that scary, you’d fallen asleep half way through after all. – Grabbing a notebook off your desk, you quickly sketch out the symbols and stare at the page until a wave of fatigue slams into you. You toss the notebook back on your desk before putting everything back in the box. Returning it to its hiding spot, you curl up under the covers. With the strange melody playing on a loop in your head and that familiar smell drifting up from under your bed, you fall asleep almost immediately. – Something brushes against your forehead, tracing shapes against your skin. Flickering lights illuminate a young boy’s face staring down at you. “Tyler?” You ask, recognition finally dawning on you. His mouth peels back into a grin, the black space from his missing front tooth seeming too big. “Having fun yet?” He whispers, continuing to run a finger across your forehead. Jerking away from his cold touch, you sit up. His smile widens and he giggles to himself. “You’re a huge help, you know that? Wouldn’t have gotten this far without you…” Something scuttles in the shadows behind him, but he doesn’t seem to notice. – “We’ll take good care of you, just keep playing your part.” Tyler stands, his eyes still fixed on you. The inky blackness behind him advances, swallowing him whole. Before you can react, it’s enveloped you as well and your vision goes black. – When you open your eyes, you’re blinking against the harsh afternoon sunlight pouring in through your window. You didn’t usually have nightmares, at least one you could remember, but this one had been so vivid. Trying to remember Tyler’s exact words, you glance at the lock with a start and realize how late you’ve managed to sleep in. Climbing out of bed, you make your way out of your room, shivering against a chill permeating the silent house. Peering down the darkened hallway, you see the outline of Henry’s closed bedroom door. Confused, and more than a little concerned, you gently knock. No response. – You try again before turning the knob and peaking into the room. It takes a few moments for your eyes to adjust to the inky blackness, and you’re able to make out a shape sitting up in the bed. Biting back a gasp you realize that it’s Henry, looking directly at you. “H-Henry?” you whisper, opening the door a bit wider. He doesn’t respond, continuing to stare at you unblinkingly. His mouth is opened slightly, seemingly unaware of your presence. He slowly lays down, turning away from you completely. – You quietly shut the door, pressing your ear against it. Straining to hear over the sound of your own heart beat, you can just make out faint whispering. With a tight knot of fear in your stomach you move quickly down the hallway, turning on lights as you go. You stop halfway to the livingroom, seeing a picture hanging on the wall. It’s of you as a toddler tucked into the crook of your grandmother's arm. Propped up on her knee was that massive book of fairytales. You squint, trying to read the title; “The Night Country Tales”. Staring at the photo, your fear resolves into something useful. Answers. You need answers. – Hurrying to your bedroom to grab a sweatshirt, you stop and sniff the air. The scent from last night has permeated your room, defusing slightly and it dawns on you why the smell had been so familiar. At the start of the year, whenever your friend Aimee would open her backpack this same smell would drift from it. You’d asked her about it once, and she’d said her Mom always insisted on “smudging” the house after the holidays. “She says it cleans out any bad energy, or something like that.”, she’d explained while rolling her eyes. – Your eyes land on the open notebook on your desk and you hastily rip the page with the sketch out, stuffing it into your pocket. You snatch a sweatshirt off the floor, pulling it on as you make your way to the front door. On the porch you stop, blinking into the surprisingly warm afternoon. Why was the house freezing cold? And so damn dark? You tie your sweatshirt around your waist and grab your bike. Standing up on the pedals, you careen down the street towards the library. – You wipe sweat from your face as you walk into the cool entrance of the library, taking a few seconds to catch your breath before going over to the front desk. The librarian looks up at you with a smile and asks if you need any help. ‘More than you know…’, you think to yourself before responding “Yes, I’m looking for a book. ‘The Night Country Tales’?”. You try to keep the desperation out of your voice as she turns to the blocky computer in front of her and pecks out the title. “You’re in luck! We have that one in stock,” she grabs a small slip of paper, scribbling on it before handing it over to you. “Second floor, 398.2 is the folklore section. Just follow the signs”. She gives you another smile and returns her attention to the book in front of her. – Clutching the paper, you make your way up the winding staircase to the second floor. Scanning the sides of the rows of shelves you turn down one marked 380 - 420. Your eyes trace the book spines until you find what you’re looking for. Grabbing the thick spine, you pull “The Night Country Tales” off the shelf and sit down on the floor with the book in your lap. The cover illustration of a densely packed forest surrounding an abandoned picnic blanket brings a smile to your face. You open the cover, you flip through the pages quickly scanning the various story titles and pictures. – While you don’t find anything related specifically to black salt, you discover a number of stories where salt is used. In one, the windows and doorways are lined with it to keep out changelings. In another, a young girl mixes salt and sugar together then dumps it on the floor to keep a goblin occupied while she makes her escape. Fairy folk have a compulsion to sort the mixture, it seems. Closing the book, your mind races as you return it to the shelf. Seeing one called “Symbols From the Ancient World”, you grab it and begin flipping through the pages. The book discusses Egyptian hieroglyphs, the potential meaning behind Stonehedge, accompanied by photographs and drawings. Towards the end, you stop and put the book on the floor. Pulling the sketch out of your pocket, you stare at the section going over Viking runes. – ‘While there’s still a fair amount of speculation over the true purpose of these runes, either as a way to mark property or even graffiti, there remains a general consensus that those found on weaponry or armor were meant to provide protection for warriors going into battle…’ You immediately spot the similarities between your drawing and the photograph in the book. Folding the sketch, you return it to your pocket and the book to the shelf. – You walk over to a line of computers, sitting down at the closest one. The screen has a large search bar with a blinking cursor, and you slowly type in the word "smudging". Unsure what to expect as you hit enter, you’re taken aback by the list of results that appear on screen. The top result doesn’t have a number attached to it, instead you see; “Modern Moirai Magazine”, 1983. You make your way back downstairs and head for the front desk. The librarian gives you another warm smile. “Find what you were looking for?” “Almost, but when I did a search on the computer upstairs all I got was a title? ‘Modern Moirai Magazine’ from 1983?” You ask sheepishly, hoping you’re pronouncing the name correctly. The librarian nods and stands up to walk around the front desk – “Popular magazine that one! Here, I’ll show you where we keep them.” She leads over to a low shelf near the front of the library, beneath a massive bulletin board. The shelf is packed with rows of thick binders, and she crouches down scanning the spins. You look at the various brightly colored flyers. There are requests for baby sitters, an advertisement for a swap meet next month, and several missing dog posters. Your eyes snap back to the collection of “MISSING” posters, and you feel your chest tighten as you recognize a face staring out at you with a gap toothed smile. – “Ah, here we are!” The librarian says triumphantly as she stands and turns back to you. She follows your eyes and lets out a sad sigh. “Tragic isn’t it? Poor boy. Even though he’s been missing for well over a month now, that sweet man has been coming in every week to put up new flyers.” You take the binder from the librarian, before asking her what the ‘sweet man’ looks like. As she gives you a description of Henry, you feel your mouth go dry. You thank her quietly before going over to a table, setting the binder down and dropping into a chair. – Your thoughts collide rapidly as you flip through the various magazines trying to find the one you’re looking for. ‘Okay, that has to be the reason Henry is acting so off - right? He’s been pulling late nights trying to find Tyler. No, that doesn’t make any sense though! Why is he hiding random candles, and bags of salt, and all that other weird crap around the house! What is going on, what is going on…’ You finally find what you’re looking for and pull the magazine out of its protective sleeve, pushing your other thoughts aside. – The words ‘Possession or Aliens!?’ are plastered across the front cover, giving you pause. You find the page number for the article and flip to it. The article contains several interviews with supposed abductees and their families, sandwiched between ads for hair growth serums and x-ray glasses. They talk about losing time, bright lights in the sky, strange noises and whispering late at night. One account in particular catches your eye; ‘He just started wandering the house at night, always at the same time, for weeks straight! He wasn’t acting like himself and I started finding these weird drawings on the walls and floors…’ The interview goes on to recount how as quickly as it had begun, the strange activity eventually stopped. Others say their loved ones vanished completely only to return months later with no memory of where they had been. – Still another say that they suspected demons rather than aliens; ‘...you just have to have faith. We started finding our son had occult things hidden away in the house. Black candles and those devil books, Crypts and Creepers, so we held a prayer circle at my local church and after two days we cast that demon out!’. While none of these retellings match your experience one to one, you can’t help but shudder at the similarities. Flipping through the magazine, you finally find what you’re looking for. A smiling faced woman holding a string tied bundle of dried herbs frames an instruction guide on how to make your very own “smudge stick”. ‘Looking to freshen up your home? Trying to rid yourself of some bad juju? Has someone put a curse on your home? Clean up your space with this DIY smudge stick!’. You slide the magazine back into the binder and return it to the shelf. – Trying to calm your still racing thoughts, you absently start humming the melody from the night before as you make your way past the front desk. The librarian lets out a surprised laugh. “Well! I haven’t heard that song in a long time! Are you in the local choir?" She asks as you look at her in confusion. “Beneath Thy Protection? It’s an old hymnal that used to be a classic back when I was in catholic school, I’m surprised they still teach it.” You smile weakly and shake your head, telling her that you aren’t sure where you picked it up before thanking her for all her help. – Walking outside to grab your bike, you’re startled to see how low the sun is on the horizon. You’ve completely lost track of time. Your stomach tightens into a knot as you pedal your way back home, watching the street lights beginning to flick on as you turn onto your street. Fear slowly coils tight in your chest as you stare at your front door. Unsure what you’ll find on the side, you finally force yourself to open it. A chill seeps into your skin the second you walk inside and cautiously look around the inky black of the living room. You flick on the floor lamp and jump slightly as something seems to skitter across the floor. “Great, now you’re seeing things.” You mumble, your voice suddenly sounding far too loud in the ear ringing silence. – You silently make your way further into the house, unable to shake the feeling that there are things moving in the shadows just out of view. You continue turning lights on (hadn’t you left them on this afternoon?) as you go. Peering down the hallways, it feels like you’re staring into a black void. You can’t make out the door to Henry’s bedroom or office. Glancing at the wall, you see the outline of the lightswitch and you reach out with trembling fingers to flick it on, keeping your eyes trained down the hall. As you graze the edge of the switch you brush against something slimy and yank your hand up, snapping the light on. The darkness seems to pull away from you and crawl under the still closed bedroom and office doors. Looking at your fingers, you don’t see anything sticking to your hand. You rub your hand against your shirt and duck into your bedroom. – Sitting on the floor of your room, you pull out the shoe box and stare at the contents. You feel as though a picture is beginning to form, but you can’t put your finger on it exactly. Going over everything you learned today, you grab your notebook again and start writing everything down: Symbols - old, maybe for protection in battle? Why candles? Why BLACK candles? Smudge Stick - cleaning out bad energy. Curses? Ask Aimee, maybe knows more. Music - “Sub Tuum Praesidium” = Beneath Thy Protection. Where would Henry have heard this? Church? Doesn’t make sense, not religious… Black Salt - grandma, superstitions, fairies?! But why black? Why still in a bag? You stare at the page, then add Tyler - missing, goes to Ravenside Elementary = Henry works there. Putting up missing posters, helping in the search? Stress? Worried…about you? Tyler Nightmares? WHY!? – In frustration, you close the book and throw it back on your desk feeling your head begin to throb. Unsure what else to do, you lay on top of your covers and you watch the clock. As the time ticks over from 11:59pm to 12:00am, the sound of Henry's bedroom door opening drifts down the hall. You move towards your own door, holding your breath and listening closely for the sound of his shuffling feet. At first you're greeted by silence before hearing a faint rummaging sound from the back of the house followed by quickly moving footsteps in the hall. More rummaging. – You let out a breath, a faint cloud forming in the cold air, and slip into the hallway. [[5-END-C-RC-SB-SM-SS-CD]] [[5-END-S-RC-SB-SM-SS-CD]] [[5-END-C-RC-SB-SM-SS-WB]] [[5-END-S-RC-SB-SM-SS-WB]] [[4-END-C]] [[4-END-S]] [[RN-TRIGGER]]

''RITUAL NIGHT 2 - SURVIVED - RC/SB'' Leaning against your closed bedroom door, you wonder if maybe your Mom is right about you having an overactive imagination. But as your eyes drift towards the box under your bed, you shake your head. ‘No,’ you think to yourself, ‘Something is going on’. You slide the box out and stare at the contents. Absently you pick up the bag of salt and toss it between your hands, your eyes tracing the symbols carved into the candles sides. Sitting on your bed in the dark, you suddenly remember a horror movie you’d see recently with your friend Aimee. There was a big stone carved with symbols that was being used to imprison a demon. Moving the stone ends up breaking the seal, but you’d passed out before the movie ended. – You drop the bag back into the box, closing the lid and sliding it back under your bed. Pulling the covers up to your chin you feel a twinge of doubt, thinking back to the missing person bulletin you’d seen this evening. ‘Maybe it is just stress…if there’s a kid missing and Henry is trying to help, maybe that explains it’. You close your eyes and eventually fall asleep, continuing to argue with yourself. – You’re pulled awake the following morning by a series of hard knocks. Sitting up you are painfully aware of the effects of staying up late multiple nights in a row. You shiver slightly as you slide into your seat, absently noticing the air has a chill to it. Across from you Henry’s face is covered by the morning paper. Taking a few bites of toast, you ask him how he slept last night. The paper rustles as he turns the page, but doesn't respond. You think for a moment, then smile slightly before asking, “Why do zombies read the newspaper?” – You wait, expecting a chuckle but instead hear a sharp sigh as he puts the paper down, glaring at you with dark ringed eyes. “For the headlines…” You finish softly, trying to hide your surprise at the look of irritation on Henry’s face. The corners of his mouth twitch, but you can’t tell if it’s in exasperation or a smile. “Very funny. Look, you’ve been spending too much time in front of that TV. Go for a bike ride or something, I need some peace and quiet.” You nod, silently returning to your breakfast as he disappears behind the paper. – The air outside is humid but pleasant, not at the stages of unbearable summer heat. You ride aimlessly around your neighborhood, still feeling the sting from Henry’s cold shoulder that morning. He was always telling those stupid jokes, laughing at them even when no one else found them funny. You remember one (“How does the butcher introduce his wife? Meat Patty!”) that he told every couple of days for weeks straight, doubling over in laughter each time. Maybe the stress from work, and being in charge on his own, was getting to him. Your thoughts bounce between Henry and the box, with its weird contents, currently sitting under your bed. – Thinking about the symbols carved into the candle, you shudder. Why do those hard angled lines give you the willies? The horror movie you and Aimee hadn’t watched hadn’t been that scary, you’d fallen asleep half way through after all. Glancing at fluttering paper stapled to a telephone pole, you pull your bike to a stop. There’s a neon green band poster, with jagged black letters spelling out “Acid Murder Sabbath" on top of a silhouette of praying skeletal hands. Symbols similar to those carved into the candles surround the image. The band poster’s artwork makes you remember Mom’s favorite band T-Shirt, the one that used to scare you as a kid. You smile slightly at the memory of Mom scooping you up in a hug to stop you from crying, chuckling and saying ‘Things that look scary aren’t always evil’. – You lean against your bike and study the poster while your mind picks at the corner of another memory, your grandmother again. She had an old book of fables and fairytales she would read to you when you were little. You hadn’t thought about it in years, but the soft draw string bag sitting under your bed has coaxed it to the front of your mind. You try to recall if there was any mention of black salt, but all that immediately comes to mind is the constant warning to never step inside a mushroom ring - unless you wanted to be whisked off by the fairies. – The street lights flicking on makes you realize how late it's gotten and you head back home. You hear clattering sounds coming from the kitchen and peek your head in to see Henry cooking dinner. He glances your direction and gives you a tired smile. “Set the table, will ya?”, he asks before turning back to the stove. Grabbing plates and forks, you can’t shake the feeling that the bags under Henry’s eyes have gotten darker since this morning. – Between bites of food, you make several attempts to strike up a conversation with Henry but your questions are mostly met with noncommittal noises. Eventually his attention starts to drift, his eyes regularly flicking to the wall clock. "It’s getting late, let’s get the dishes done. I’m going to call it an early night" Henry finally says and starts to clear the table, his dinner mostly untouched. Laying on top of the covers you watch the clock and wait. – As the time ticks over from 11:59pm to 12:00am, the sound of Henry's bedroom door opening drifts down the hall. You move towards your own door, holding your breath and listening closely for the sound of his shuffling feet. At first you're greeted by silence before hearing a faint rummaging sound from the back of the house followed by quickly moving footsteps in the hall. More rummaging. You quietly breathe out and slip into the hallway. [[2-END-C-RC-SB]] [[2-END-S-RC-SB]] [[3-END-C-RC-SB-CD]] [[3-END-S-RC-SB-CD]] [[3-END-C-RC-SB-WB]] [[3-END-S-RC-SB-WB]] [[4-END-RC-SB-WB-CD]]

''RITUAL NIGHT 2 - SURVIVED - RC/SB/SM'' You quietly shut your bedroom door behind you, before turning your attention to the paper in your hand. Moving over to the window for more light, you see music notes scrawled across the page. Reading music might not be your strong suite, but you silently try to sound the tune out in your head. It doesn’t take long to realize this is the same song you heard Henry humming from his office. You see the words “Sub Tuum Praesidium” written in ornate calligraphy at the top of the page. – Reaching under your bed to grab the shoe box, you hear the soft clacking sound of the candles rolling into each other and the muted shifting of the drawstring bag already inside. Sitting on your bed you fold up the piece of paper and place it inside, then pick up the bag. Tossing it back and forth between your hands you smile to yourself, thinking back to your grandmother again. She had this massive book of fables and fairytales that she would read to you when you were younger, though you haven’t thought about it in years. You try to recall if there were any stories about black salt, but all that comes to mind are warnings about not stepping into mushroom rings. Unless you wanted to be stolen away by the fairies, that is. – Your attention turns to the candles, and you shudder slightly. Why do those hard angled lines give you the willies? The horror movie you and Aimee hadn’t watched hadn’t been that scary, you’d fallen asleep half way through after all. Dropping the bag back into the box, you continue to stare at the candles until a wave of fatigue slams into you. Pushing the box back under your bed, you pull the covers up to your chin and quickly fall asleep. – BANG! A fist slamming into your bedroom door yanks you into consciousness, almost causing you to fall out of bed. As your brain slowly catches up to your body being rudely awakened, you’re aware of a vague burning smell. You stumble into the darkened hallway, where the smell gets stronger and a string of curses emanate from the kitchen. Looking in you see a thin string of smoke coming off a frying pan. A still swearing Henry grabs the pan and dumps it into the sink. You stand frozen in the doorway until Henry turns and blood shot eyes land on you. – He takes a step towards you, moving so suddenly that you involuntarily flinch away. A short, harsh laugh escapes him and your face flushes hot from surprise. “Looks like there’s no breakfast. Unless you decide you want to make it yourself, for once.” He spits the words at you with a look of disgust. “Figure it out. I’m working again today, so either make yourself scarce or be quiet as the dead. Got me?” It feels like the wind’s been knocked out of you, making it impossible for you to answer. – You nod your head frantically, instead, as he stalks past you into the hallway. The rattling crash of the office door banging shut makes you jump. You lean against the dining room table, feeling your legs tremble. Your body begins moving on auto-pilot. Taking extra pains to be silent you rush to the side yard and grab your bike, throwing yourself onto the pedals to get as much distance between you and the house (and Henry) as possible. – Halfway down the street you feel hot tears running down your face, the shock of the morning finally breaking through the panic. You make it to a nearby park, nearly falling off your bike as you dismount and collapse on a bench to finish crying. You feel better after a few minutes. – You rack your brain, Henry wasn’t just acting ‘strange’ he was acting like a completely different person. You’d seen him upset before, of course you had, but nothing on this scale. Maybe he was drinking? But that seemed insane, your Mom only kept a couple of beers in the fridge and Henry complained alcohol gave him a headache. Drugs? That thought immediately makes you laugh, surprising yourself but helping to soothe your rattled nerves. Henry was a regular D.A.R.E volunteer, there was no way. – Your thoughts continue to chase themselves in circles until you realize how late it’s gotten. With a pit in your stomach, you climb back onto your bike and head towards home. You quietly open the front door and listen before cautiously walking into the silent house. Creeping into the hallway you glance at Henry’s office door and feel a wave of relief when you see it still closed. Your stomach rumbles, a reminder that you haven’t eaten today, so you search the fridge to find some left over pizza. As you move a carton of milk, your eyes land the grainy black and white photo plastered to the cardboard side. – The word MISSING is printed above the photo of Tyler you’d seen on the news last night. This black and white version turns the cute missing front tooth into a void, making your stomach lurch. Pizza forgotten, you shut the fridge door and make your way into your bedroom. With Henry’s outburst this morning, you had completely forgotten about Tyler. You pace around your room, bouncing between too many thoughts. ‘Henry’s just stressed, that has to be it. I would be too if I knew a missing kid, right? But seriously, why would he be taking this out on me? He’s never acted like this before. Yeah, but you’ve never seen how he acts when there’s a kid missing before either.’ – You continue pacing, try to make sense of everything, without realizing you’ve started humming the melody from the sheet music. As the song loops in your mind, you feel a flicker of recognition. There’s an old Catholic church that you sometimes pass while riding your bike. On hotter days, the doors are propped open and you could hear choir practice on Wednesday. You aren’t sure if they’ve ever sung this song specifically, but there is absolutely a similarity. – Hearing Henry exit his office and slam the door to his bedroom breaks your train of thought. You hurriedly shut off your bedroom light and lay down on top of your covers. ‘Being stressed out about a missing kid is one thing…that doesn’t explain all the other weird stuff going on in this house’, you think to yourself as you stare at the glowing numbers of your desk clock. – As the time ticks over from 11:59pm to 12:00am, the sound of Henry's bedroom door opening drifts down the hall. You move towards your own door, holding your breath and listening closely for the sound of his shuffling feet. At first you're greeted by silence before hearing a faint rummaging sound from the back of the house followed by quickly moving footsteps in the hall. More rummaging. – With your hand on the doorknob, you pause, hearing the blood pulsing in your ears. What if he catches you out of bed? Given the way he’s been acting you shudder at the thought. Taking a deep breath, you realize you’ve already made up your mind. Something is going on, and you need to get to the bottom of it. You quietly breathe out and slip into the hallway. [[3-END-C-RC-SB-SM]] [[3-END-S-RC-SB-SM]] [[4-END-C-RC-SB-SM-CD]] [[4-END-S-RC-SB-SM-CD]] [[4-END-C-RC-SB-SM-WB]] [[4-END-S-RC-SB-SM-WB]] [[5-END-RC-SB-SM-WB-CD]]

''RITUAL NIGHT 2 - SURVIVED - RC/SB/SS'' You quietly shut your bedroom door behind you, before turning your attention to the string tied bundle of herbs in your hand. Sitting on your bed, you sniff at the blackened top of the bundle. Under the lingering burnt smell you pick up the same earthy, almost skunky, musk that had been coming from under your bedroom door. There’s something oddly familiar and comforting about the scent, though you can’t put your finger on why. – Reaching under your bed to grab the shoe box, you hear the soft clacking sound of the candles rolling into each other and the muted shifting of the drawstring bag already inside. You drop the bundle inside, then pick up the bag. Tossing it back and forth between your hands you smile to yourself, thinking back to your grandmother again. She had this massive book of fables and fairytales that she would read to you when you were younger, though you haven’t thought about it in years. You try to recall if there were any stories about black salt, but all that comes to mind are warnings about not stepping into mushroom rings. Unless you wanted to be stolen away by the fairies, that is. – Your attention turns to the candles, and you shudder slightly. Why do those hard angled lines give you the willies? The horror movie you and Aimee hadn’t watched hadn’t been that scary, you’d fallen asleep half way through after all. Dropping the bag back into the box, you continue to stare at the candles until a wave of fatigue slams into you. Pushing the box back under your bed, you pull the covers up to your chin and quickly fall asleep. – BANG! A fist slamming into your bedroom door yanks you into consciousness, almost causing you to fall out of bed. As your brain slowly catches up to your body being rudely awakened, you’re aware of a vague burning smell. You stumble into the darkened hallway, where the smell gets stronger and a string of curses emanate from the kitchen. Looking in you see a thin string of smoke coming off a frying pan. A still swearing Henry grabs the pan and dumps it into the sink. You stand frozen in the doorway until Henry turns and blood shot eyes land on you. – He takes a step towards you, moving so suddenly that you involuntarily flinch away. A short, harsh laugh escapes him and your face flushes hot from surprise. “Looks like there’s no breakfast. Unless you decide you want to make it yourself, for once.” He spits the words at you with a look of disgust. “Figure it out. I’m working again today, so either make yourself scarce or be quiet as the dead. Got me?” It feels like the wind’s been knocked out of you, making it impossible for you to answer. – You nod your head frantically, instead, as he stalks past you into the hallway. The rattling crash of the office door banging shut makes you jump. You lean against the dining room table, feeling your legs tremble. Your body begins moving on auto-pilot. Taking extra pains to be silent you rush to the side yard and grab your bike, throwing yourself onto the pedals to get as much distance between you and the house (and Henry) as possible. – Halfway down the street you feel hot tears running down your face, the shock of the morning finally breaking through the panic. You make it to a nearby park, nearly falling off your bike as you dismount and collapse on a bench to finish crying. You feel better after a few minutes. – You rack your brain, Henry wasn’t just acting ‘strange’ he was acting like a completely different person. You’d seen him upset before, of course you had, but nothing on this scale. Maybe he was drinking? But that seemed insane, your Mom only kept a couple of beers in the fridge and Henry complained alcohol gave him a headache. Drugs? That thought immediately makes you laugh, surprising yourself but helping to soothe your rattled nerves. Henry was a regular D.A.R.E volunteer, there was no way. – Your thoughts continue to chase themselves in circles until you realize how late it’s gotten. With a pit in your stomach, you climb back onto your bike and head towards home. You quietly open the front door and listen before cautiously walking into the silent house. Creeping into the hallway you glance at Henry’s office door and feel a wave of relief when you see it still closed. Your stomach rumbles, a reminder that you haven’t eaten today, so you search the fridge to find some left over pizza. As you move a carton of milk, your eyes land the grainy black and white photo plastered to the cardboard side. – The word MISSING is printed above the photo of Tyler you’d seen on the news last night. This black and white version turns the cute missing front tooth into a void, making your stomach lurch. Pizza forgotten, you shut the fridge door and make your way into your bedroom. With Henry’s outburst this morning, you had completely forgotten about Tyler. You pace around your room, bouncing between too many thoughts. ‘Henry’s just stressed, that has to be it. I would be too if I knew a missing kid, right? But seriously, why would he be taking this out on me? He’s never acted like this before. Yeah, but you’ve never seen how he acts when there’s a kid missing before either.’ – Sitting down on your bed, you catch a whiff of a smokey scent drifting up from under your bed. Reaching underneath, you pull out the box and remove the lid. The smell of the herb bundle gets stronger, and you realize why it’s so familiar. At the start of the year, whenever your friend Aimee would open her backpack this same smell would drift from it. You’d asked her about it once, and she’d said her Mom always insisted on “smudging” the house after the holidays. “She says it cleans out any bad energy, or something like that.”, she’d explained while rolling her eyes. – Hearing Henry exit his office and slam the door to his bedroom breaks your train of thought. You hurriedly shut off your bedroom light, shoving the box back under your bed, and lay down on top of your covers. ‘Being stressed out about a missing kid is one thing…that doesn’t explain all the other weird stuff going on in this house’, you think to yourself as you stare at the glowing numbers of your desk clock. – As the time ticks over from 11:59pm to 12:00am, the sound of Henry's bedroom door opening drifts down the hall. You move towards your own door, holding your breath and listening closely for the sound of his shuffling feet. At first you're greeted by silence before hearing a faint rummaging sound from the back of the house followed by quickly moving footsteps in the hall. More rummaging. – With your hand on the doorknob, you pause, hearing the blood pulsing in your ears. What if he catches you out of bed? Given the way he’s been acting you shudder at the thought. Taking a deep breath, you realize you’ve already made up your mind. Something is going on, and you need to get to the bottom of it. You quietly breathe out and slip into the hallway. [[3-END-C-RC-SB-SS]] [[3-END-S-RC-SB-SS]] [[4-END-C-RC-SB-SS-CD]] [[4-END-S-RC-SB-SS-CD]] [[4-END-C-RC-SB-SS-WB]] [[4-END-S-RC-SB-SS-WB]] [[5-END-RC-SB-SS-WB-CD]]

''INTRODUCTION'' You jolt awake. The bus, bouncing gracelessly over a speed bump, had smacked your previously sleeping head against the window. Groggily, you become aware of the excited chatter of your fellow students. – Everyone, yourself included, is thrilled to be starting a three day weekend. Mom was going out of town with her bookclub, and all of your friends had already made plans, so it would be just you and Henry for the next three nights. – Henry had moved in right before he and Mom got married last year. While he's a bit of a dweeb, he made Mom happy - which was good enough for you. Plus, he'd brought a game system with him and you regularly kicked his ass at "Dove Hunt". You had a sneaking suspicion that he was letting you win at first, but you'd gotten pretty good. – As the bus comes to a stop in front of your house, you catch yourself smiling. Even though you wouldn't admit it, you were looking forward to spending the long weekend with Henry. Maybe you could even convince him to buy that new "Legend of Zeke" game your friends have been raving about. – You open the front door onto an unusually quiet house. You call out, expecting to hear Henry's over enthusiastic shout of; "Welcome home! How was school?", followed by a mild barrage of questions. Instead, you're greeted by silence. – When Henry had first started staying over at the house, you would roll your eyes at this daily interrogation: "How was your day?" "Fine." "Learn anything cool?" "Nope." "Meet any cute boys?" "Henry! Grody!" "HA! Got two words outta ya this time!" Once you realized his interest was genuine, and depending on your mood, he could sometimes get a whole sentence "outta ya" these days. – Dropping your coat and bag on the couch, you walk deeper into the house. From the hallway, you can see a light coming from under Henry's closed office door. You call out again, hearing the hurried sound of papers being shuffled together followed by the thunk of a desk drawer being shut. – The sight of the closed door gives you pause. You'd once overheard him asking Mom the best way to get to know you better, without coming on too strong. "Just keep an open door policy, she'll come around" Henry had taken the advice literally, one of the many things you found endearing, if cheesy, about him – The door opens slightly and you can see a sliver of Henry's face through the crack. "Hey Bud. Welcome home. I've gotta get some work done - why don't you order us a pizza and I'll be out in a bit". The door closes once again before you have a chance to respond. – You blink in confusion at what feels like an obvious lie: Henry works as a janitor for Ravenside Elementary school. With the holiday weekend, what "work" could he be doing? Henry had even told Mom he was free this weekend, which made her feel better about joining this year's book club trip. – You wait for a few more seconds, hearing the familiar creak of Henry settling back into his desk chair. Okay, so he's acting mental. At least there'll be pizza. Wordlessly you make your way into the kitchen, seeing a neat stack of cash by the phone. After calling in your usual order, you migrate into the living room and start up "Super Mark Bros". It's your long weekend too, after all, and you're going to make the most of it - with or without Henry. – Truth be told, Henry HAD been acting more like a space-cadet these past few days. He had seemed more paranoid and distracted. You almost mentioned it to Mom a few times, but couldn't find the right words. It was more of a feeling than anything else - one you push to the back of your mind as the game screen comes to life. – Less than 30 minutes later, the doorbell rings. Pizza acquired, you set two plates and the steaming pizza box onto the dining table. You wait, sure the sound of the doorbell would alert Henry of dinner's arrival. Your stomach lets out a gurgling sound and with a sigh, you inhale your first slice of pizza. Still no sign of Henry. You plop two slices of rapidly cooling pizza onto a plate and walk back towards Henry's office. This time, the underside of the office door is dark. Glancing down the hallway, you can make out the closed master bedroom door. – Had Henry already gone to bed? The answer to that question comes in the form of a brain rattling snore. "Like a pack of bears on a train", Mom liked to tease. – With a mild sense of annoyance (and hurt, but you quickly brush that aside) you return to the dining table. Staking a few more slices of pizza onto your own plate, you drop back down in front of the TV to resume your game. You proceed to lose all sense of time, absorbed in the task of trying to beat your current high score. – The sound of a door banging open makes you almost jump out of your skin. You glance at your watch in alarm - 12am - it's WAY past when you should be in bed: You are so toast. – Even though Henry could be a pushover, your Mom was another story. Yesterday, she had sat you both down to go over her expectations while she was gone: No fires No hospital trips In bed by 10pm No more than 2 hours of video games a day Henry's in change If she found you had broken not one, but two of those rules on the first night? You'd be grounded for at least a month. – In a panic you shut everything off, shoving your now empty plate under the couch and scrambling as quietly as possible under the dining table. You barely make it, seeing Henry's feet shuffle into view as you tuck your legs beneath you and try to make yourself as small as possible. Over the sound of blood wooshing in your ears, you can hear Henry muttering to himself. There's a repetitive quality to what he's saying, you hold your breath to try and make out the words. – The muttering continues as his feet shuffled out of view, moving towards the living room. You hear a door open and close before Henry’s feet appear again, heading towards the kitchen. As your heart rate begins to slow, panic is replaced by curiosity and a creeping sense of dread. Something doesn't feel right... You wait until Henry is out of sight before moving out from under the table. [[N1-C-0]] [[N1-S-0]] [[N1-C-RC]] [[N1-S-RC]] [[N1-C-SB]] [[N1-S-SB]] [[N1-RC-SB]] (link: "← Back to BareCat Studios")[(goto-url: "https://www.barecatstudios.com")]

''2 ITEMS ENDING - CAUGHT - RC/SB'' "What, exactly, are you doing out of bed?" The words are quiet, but rattle with an undercurrent of rage. Turning around the ice from Henry's glare makes your heart skip a beat. You're so busted. "Move it!” His voice is almost a shout, and you beeline for your bedroom feeling Henry’s eye bore into your back. – As you scramble into bed you risk at glance at Henry’s glaring face in your doorway. “We’ll talk about this in the morning” he says before shutting your door with an audible ‘thawk’. You breathe deeply while counting to twenty, trying to get your heart to slow down. Sinking into your bed, you feel the fatigue of the past three nights land on you like a ton of bricks. Sleep overtakes your racing thoughts. Your dreams are plagued with images of Tyler’s gap toothed smile lit by candle light, his face dissolving into piles of black salt. – You open your eyes to a series of sharp knocks on your bedroom door. Relief washes over you briefly, grateful to be pulled awake from your nightmares, until you remember the look on Henry’s face from the night before. You quickly make your way into the dining room table but pause before taking your seat. Henry is sitting cross armed at the table, fixing you in place with a cold stare. Your throat grows tight as you look at him, feeling as though you're looking at a stranger. The dark circles under his eyes have gotten deeper, and his usual easy going expression has been replaced by a look of irritation. You’re so toast. – "I don't know why you're wandering the house at night, but you know the rules" Henry says, with a now familiar edge to his voice. "You're grounded and I'll be discussing your behavior with your Mom when she gets back tonight. I want the dishes done and your room cleaned by this afternoon." You slump down into your seat, exhaustion making it impossible to hide your irritation as you grumble “Fine”. He leans forward, his eyes narrowing. "I'm sorry, what was that?" He asks. You stare for a second before quietly saying "Will do". "That's what I thought" – They never did find Tyler, alive or dead. From that night on, Henry pulled away from you entirely. It wasn't immediate, more like he began to gradually draw inward. Instead of the expected ritual of going around the table to ask about each other's day, the dinner table steadily became silent. He began to spend more and more time in his office with the door shut. There was something almost surgical about it, as if he was attempting to remove you from his life like a cancerous mole. After graduating from highschool, you exchanged the obligatory Christmas and Birthday phone calls. The calls turned into cards until, eventually, you stopped hearing from Henry entirely. [[Story Intro]]

''2 ITEMS ENDING - SURVIVED - RC/SB'' You sit on your bedroom floor, the shoe box open in front of you. The candles and drawstring bag seem to stare back at you, mockingly and you feel your head begin to pound. Putting the lid back on, you shove the box to the back of your closet in frustration before wearily sinking into your bed. You feel the fatigue of the past three nights land on you like a ton of bricks and sleep quickly overtakes your racing thoughts. Your dreams are plagued with images of Tyler’s gap toothed smile lit by candle light, his face dissolving into piles of black salt. – A series of sharp knocks pulls you out of another nightmare; Tyler had been melting wax onto your face, sprinkling salt into your eyes before sinking his small teeth into your neck. You sit bolt upright, trying to catch your breath as relief washes over you. ‘Just a dream…just a dream.’ You think to yourself as you climb out of bed and make your way to the dining room. Henry sits silently behind the morning paper and does not return your morning greetings. Taking your place in front of your breakfast, you notice absently that the eggs look a little over done but munch on them anyway. Henry continues to ignore your attempts to start a conversation, the silence only interrupted by the sound of the newspaper pages turning. – "Your Mom's getting home later tonight, make sure the dishes are done and your room's clean." The sudden sound of Henry's voice makes you jump. You slump down into your seat, exhaustion making it impossible to hide your irritation as you grumble “Fine”. He leans forward, his eyes narrowing. "I'm sorry, what was that?" He asks. You stare for a second before quietly saying "Will do". "That's what I thought" – They never did find Tyler, dead or alive. From that night on, Henry pulled away from you entirely. It wasn't immediate, more like he began to gradually draw inward. Instead of the expected ritual of going around the table to ask about each other's day, the dinner table steadily became silent. He began to spend more and more time in his office with the door shut. There was something almost surgical about it, as if he was attempting to remove you from his life like a cancerous mole. After graduating from high school, you exchanged the obligatory Christmas and Birthday phone calls. The calls turned into cards until, eventually, you stopped hearing from Henry entirely. [[Story Intro]]

''3 ITEMS ENDING - CAUGHT - RC/SB/SM'' A hand grabs the back of your shirt and yanks you onto the floor. Looking up into Henry’s furious eyes, you suddenly hope a hole opens up in the ground and swallows you. “I don’t know what the hell has gotten into you, and I don’t care. If I catch you out of bed one more time, you will regret it.” The words are a quiet hiss, the force behind them feeling like a weight pressing you into the floor. You nod frantically and pull yourself up onto shaking legs. His glare bores into your back as you make a mad dash back to the safety of your bedroom, shutting the door quickly behind you. – Leaning back, you slide onto the floor with your heart hammering against your chest. You can feel the impact of Henry’s own door slamming further up the hall. The increased distance, and two closed doors, brings you a small sense of relief. You wait for a few minutes before crawling over to your bed and pulling out the shoebox. The candles, drawstring bag, and folded sheet music seem to stare back at you, mockingly, and you feel your head begin to throb. – Exhaustion makes your eyes burn and the combined fatigue of the past few days hits you all at once. You shove the lid back on the box in frustration and slide it into the back of your closet before crawling into bed, falling asleep almost at once. Your dreams are plagued with images of Tyler’s gap toothed smile. He cheerfully hums the melody that’s been stuck in your head as he pours salt into your eyes. As you struggle and try to scream he grabs a black candle, turning it slightly to let the hot wax drip down your throat. – “GET. UP!” The shouted words are accompanied by four slamming knocks on your door the next morning, dragging you out of your nightmare just as Tyler’s small teeth were being plunged into your neck. You bolt upright, the relief at being woken up immediately replaced with a sense of dread. Dragging yourself from the bed, you cautiously open the door to see Henry’s face set in a furious sneer. – “Your Mom is getting back tonight, and I expect this house to be spotless by then. I think you’ve gotten a little too comfortable, and I’m sick of your piss poor attitude.” The quiet fury in his words stun you into silence as you stare at him. He narrows his eyes and leans down into your face. “Got me?” He practically spits the words at you and you lean away from him nodding. “Good.” He turns around and heads in the direction of his office. “Oh, and you’re grounded”, he yells over his shoulder before yanking the door shut. – They never did find Tyler, dead or alive, and it took weeks for the nightmares to subside. The thick cloud of rage that had settled over the house after that night never fully lifted and was made living with Henry almost suffocating. It was like a switch had flipped somewhere inside him. Nothing you did from that point on was good enough for Henry; your grades were too low, your chores needed to be redone - the RIGHT way, there was always something wrong with your ‘tone of voice’. You started doing your best to avoid Henry, rather than fight a losing battle. [[Story Intro]]

''3 ITEM ENDING - SURVIVED - RC/SB/SM'' Sitting on your bedroom floor with the open shoe box, you can feel your head begin to pound. All three of these items feel…wrong, somehow. The candles, drawstring bag, and folded sheet music seem to stare back at you, mockingly, and you feel your head begin to throb. – Exhaustion makes your eyes burn and the combined fatigue of the past few days hits you all at once. You shove the lid back on the box in frustration and slide it into the back of your closet before crawling into bed, falling asleep almost at once. Your dreams are plagued with images of Tyler’s gap toothed smile. He cheerfully hums the melody that’s been stuck in your head as he pours salt into your eyes. As you struggle and try to scream he grabs a black candle, turning it slightly to let the hot wax drip down your throat. – “GET. UP!” The shouted words are accompanied by four slamming knocks on your door the next morning, dragging you out of your nightmare just as Tyler’s small teeth were being plunged into your neck. You bolt upright, the relief at being woken up immediately replaced with a sense of dread. Your heart starts pounding in your ears as you clamber out of bed to find Henry sitting at the dining table, coming up short at the sneering smile plastered across his face. – He nods towards the kitchen, “I think it’s about time you start learning some respect and self reliance. I’m tired of you not pulling your weight around here.” You start to reply, but Henry slams his fist into the table. “Not one word, I don’t want to hear one word out of you. If you want breakfast, make it yourself.” You flinch back at the vitriol in his voice and hurry into the kitchen. “Your Mom is getting back home tonight,” Henry’s voice follows you “This place had better be spotless by the time she’s back”. – They never did find Tyler, dead or alive, and it took weeks for the nightmares to subside. The thick cloud of rage that had settled over the house after that night never fully lifted and was made living with Henry almost suffocating. It was like a switch had flipped somewhere inside him. Nothing you did from that point on was good enough for Henry; your grades were too low, your chores needed to be redone - the RIGHT way, there was always something wrong with your ‘tone of voice’. You started doing your best to avoid Henry, rather than fight a losing battle. [[Story Intro]]

''3 ITEM ENDING - SURVIVED - RC/SB/SS'' Sitting on your bedroom floor with the open shoe box, you can feel your head begin to pound. All three of these items feel…wrong, somehow. The candles, drawstring bag, and folded sheet music seem to stare back at you, mockingly, and you feel your head begin to throb. – Exhaustion makes your eyes burn and the combined fatigue of the past few days hits you all at once. You shove the lid back on the box in frustration and slide it into the back of your closet before crawling into bed, falling asleep almost at once. Your dreams are plagued with images of Tyler’s smiling face, thick curls of stinking smoke pour out of the hole left by his missing front tooth as he pours salt into your eyes. As you struggle and try to scream he grabs a black candle, turning it slightly to let the hot wax drip down your throat. – “GET. UP!” The shouted words are accompanied by four slamming knocks on your door the next morning, dragging you out of your nightmare just as Tyler’s small teeth were being plunged into your neck. You bolt upright, the relief at being woken up immediately replaced with a sense of dread. Your heart starts pounding in your ears as you clamber out of bed to find Henry sitting at the dining table, coming up short at the sneering smile plastered across his face. – He nods towards the kitchen, “I think it’s about time you start learning some respect and self reliance. I’m tired of you not pulling your weight around here.” You start to reply, but Henry slams his fist into the table. “Not one word, I don’t want to hear one word out of you. If you want breakfast, make it yourself.” You flinch back at the vitriol in his voice and hurry into the kitchen. “Your Mom is getting back home tonight,” Henry’s voice follows you “This place had better be spotless by the time she’s back”. – They never did find Tyler, dead or alive, and it took weeks for the nightmares to subside. The thick cloud of rage that had settled over the house after that night never fully lifted and was made living with Henry almost suffocating. It was like a switch had flipped somewhere inside him. Nothing you did from that point on was good enough for Henry; your grades were too low, your chores needed to be redone - the RIGHT way, there was always something wrong with your ‘tone of voice’. You started doing your best to avoid Henry, rather than fight a losing battle. [[Story Intro]]

''3 ITEM ENDING - CAUGHT - RC/SB/SS'' A hand grabs the back of your shirt and yanks you onto the floor. Looking up into Henry’s furious eyes, you suddenly hope a hole opens up in the ground and swallows you. “I don’t know what the hell has gotten into you, and I don’t care. If I catch you out of bed one more time, you will regret it.” The words are a quiet hiss, the force behind them feeling like a weight pressing you into the floor. You nod frantically and pull yourself up onto shaking legs. His glare bores into your back as you make a mad dash back to the safety of your bedroom, shutting the door quickly behind you. – Leaning back, you slide onto the floor with your heart hammering against your chest. You can feel the impact of Henry’s own door slamming further up the hall. The increased distance, and two closed doors, brings you a small sense of relief. You wait for a few minutes before crawling over to your bed and pulling out the shoebox. The candles, drawstring bag, and folded sheet music seem to stare back at you, mockingly, and you feel your head begin to throb. – Exhaustion makes your eyes burn and the combined fatigue of the past few days hits you all at once. You shove the lid back on the box in frustration and slide it into the back of your closet before crawling into bed, falling asleep almost at once. Your dreams are plagued with images of Tyler’s smiling face, thick curls of stinking smoke pour out of the hole left by his missing front tooth as he pours salt into your eyes. As you struggle and try to scream he grabs a black candle, turning it slightly to let the hot wax drip down your throat. – “GET. UP!” The shouted words are accompanied by four slamming knocks on your door the next morning, dragging you out of your nightmare just as Tyler’s small teeth were being plunged into your neck. You bolt upright, the relief at being woken up immediately replaced with a sense of dread. Dragging yourself from the bed, you cautiously open the door to see Henry’s face set in a furious sneer. – “Your Mom is getting back tonight, and I expect this house to be spotless by then. I think you’ve gotten a little too comfortable, and I’m sick of your piss poor attitude.” The quiet fury in his words stun you into silence as you stare at him. He narrows his eyes and leans down into your face. “Got me?” He practically spits the words at you and you lean away from him nodding. “Good.” He turns around and heads in the direction of his office. “Oh, and you’re grounded”, he yells over his shoulder before yanking the door shut. – They never did find Tyler, dead or alive, and it took weeks for the nightmares to subside. The thick cloud of rage that had settled over the house after that night never fully lifted and was made living with Henry almost suffocating. It was like a switch had flipped somewhere inside him. Nothing you did from that point on was good enough for Henry; your grades were too low, your chores needed to be redone - the RIGHT way, there was always something wrong with your ‘tone of voice’. You started doing your best to avoid Henry, rather than fight a losing battle. [[Story Intro]]